


Throwing Up These Butterflies

by MyMayura



Series: Throwing Up These Butterflies [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Akumatized characters, Butterfly Miraculous, Butterfly Nathalie Sancoeur, Drama, F/M, Family, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth Redemption, Healing, Heavy topics, Identity Reveal, Kwami Swap, Miscommunication, Peacock Gabriel Agreste, Peacock Miraculous, Peacock Nathalie Sancoeur | Mayura, Protective Gabriel, Rebuilding Trust, Requited Unrequited Love, Romance, Season/Series 03, Slow Burn, Upsetting topics, a lot of impossible things made possible by the miraculouses, and so many more, be prepared for a wild ride, hurt!Nathalie, love square problems, love triangles with a dead woman, miraculous magic, sick!Nathalie, soooo many kwami swaps and combos, this only scratches the surface
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 144,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20954882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyMayura/pseuds/MyMayura
Summary: A broken miraculous does more than damage its wearer. Gabriel and Nathalie find this out the hard way. When Gabriel realizes that he actually has everything left to lose, what will his decision be?





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hair akuma ends up being... about as useful as one would expect. Gabriel and Nathalie discover a distressing side effect of the broken miraculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place several months after Ladybug, and does not account for Kwamibuster, Chat Blanc, Félix, or the S3 Finale.

_There's no escaping from you,_

_When I think about you._

_Every time I close my eyes,_

_I get dizzier inside._

_Make it stop, make it stop,_

_I can't stop._

— Stela Cole, _Throwing Up Butterflies_ 🦋 

* * *

_ “Nathalie!” _

Papillon manages to bite back the name that threatens to burst from his throat, but it echoes inside his head, thrumming rhythmically with his frantic heart as a reminder of his grave near-mistake.

He is typically a careful, intelligent man, but all it takes for him to nearly let Mayura’s identity slip, (and by extension, his own) is one stray akuma.

It’s a terrible, useless akuma, which is why Gabriel had caved when Nathalie asked to appear as Mayura in order to give them some chance at success. He obliged, only after Nathalie promised to stay away from the actual fight.

He’s not worried about his akuma harming Mayura, but Ladybug and Chat Noir are formidable opponents. The akuma Rapunzeler, on the other hand, is just a frustrated child who is causing no more damage than cursing her victims with long, flowing hair. Although Ladybug found herself tripping over her own drooping pigtails, and Chat Noir got tangled up in his new mane, the unusually straightforward Lucky Charm — a spotted pair of scissors — quickly freed them. 

It was then that Mayura had stubbornly decided to join the fray face-to-face, leaving Papillion to rush out of his lair in panicked pursuit. Mayura had failed to find an appropriate target for an amok, but her presence was enough to distract Ladybug and Chat Noir from defeating Rapunzeler right away.

If Papillon had been in a calmer state, he might have recognized the brilliance of Mayura’s arrival. The previously hopeless akuma was now a decent foe with Mayura to back her up. As Papillon drew closer, bounding over rooftops, he could see how Mayura kept the heroes on their toes enough that they continued to be hit by Rapunzeler. They were run ragged, having to defend against Mayura while tossing the scissors between them in order to hack off their hair after each blast from the akuma. And since they’d both used their powers, it was only a matter of time before their transformations fell, leaving them defenseless.

All this information, however, was a blip in the back of Papillon’s mind. The risk to Mayura — to _ Nathalie _— was too great. She had only just begun to recover, and now, she was putting herself in harm’s way more directly than she ever had before. And although she hadn’t created an amok, she’d been transformed for a very long time. There was no knowing what condition she’d be in later.

Some of Papillon’s tension had melted off as he sprung up to the rooftop and landed at her side. As long as he had the power to protect her, there was some scrap of comfort. However, this relief had not lasted long. A mistimed blast by Rapunzeler had been easily dodged by Chat Noir, hitting Mayura square in the face instead.

And here they are.

_ “Nathalie!” _ he almost cries. His breath catches in shock at how easily such a fatal error is almost made, over an “attack” that will not even hurt his partner in the slightest. It’s somehow enough to make him freeze up.

But time doesn’t stop for his alarm. Within seconds, the silky blue tresses of Mayura’s hair begin to grow and grow and grow, tangling around her arms as she stumbles back. And just as quick, Papillon is hit by Rapunzeler, too.

Determined not to misstep again, he dashes forward to catch Mayura before she can even hit the ground. Luckily, his full mask is able to hold up most of his own rapidly growing hair, the ends barely spilling out to tickle the back of his neck. He turns back to give the heroes nothing more than a snarl over his shoulder before leaping away, Mayura safe in his arms.

Once there is some distance between them and the heroes, Papillon glimpses down at Mayura. She’s looking at him with a stupefied expression, and it’s only now that he realizes that with her miraculous, Mayura can sense his horror at the close call. She, of course, doesn’t know exactly what went on in his mind, but she _ can _ sense the emotion behind it. Papillon himself can feel a spike of adrenaline within her, as well as some confusion, despite the fact that Mayura keeps her emotions well guarded in both villain and civilian form.

Ever the professional, Mayura doesn’t ask. But she does raise a questioning eyebrow up at him.

He grimaces. “Later,” he concedes. He glances back to make sure they are not being pursued. The Paris skyline is clear as far as he can see, so he takes a moment to catch his breath and reposition Mayura in his arms.

Not a moment later, there is a pink, sparkling burst on the horizon, and the sky is washed with the cure of the Ladybug miraculous.

It takes a good moment for Papillon to realize that something is amiss. “Nathalie!” he exclaims, this time for real. He shakes his head at his foolishness. “Mayura,” he corrects, though his heart isn’t in it.

“Sir?” she questions. She looks down at herself and notices the very thing that had surprised him. “Oh,” she remarks, grabbing a hold of her hair, which remains meters long. She looks up at the sky, still fading from its glittery restoration. “I thought that was the Ladybug cure.”

Papillon reaches up to feel the back of his neck. The prickly ends of lengthened hair are gone. “It was.” He frowns and states the obvious, “It didn’t work for you.”

“Apparently not.”

He lets out a thoughtful grumble and continues back to the mansion.

“Perhaps…” Mayura hesitates.

“Yes?”

She sighs. “I don’t want to dissuade you from using Mayura, but _ perhaps _ the miraculous being in ... _ less than prime condition _ makes me immune to the cure.”

Papillon leaps up onto the roof of the Agreste mansion.

“Sir?” Mayura asks again. “We’re on the roof.”

“We are.” He edges along towards the observatory.

“I just thought — well, we usually detransform and go through the front.”

“There will be questions if people see you, as Nathalie, with your hair still affected by the akuma.” He stops and sets Mayura onto her feet for a moment and guides her arms up and around his neck. “Hold onto me,” he instructs. He jumps up the wall and scrambles through the window, struggling from the effort of maneuvering with Mayura pressed against his front.

Mayura is quiet as he sets her back on her feet. It’s odd how she can hide so much from him. As Papillon, he can sense almost any emotion, but Nathalie’s are always carefully hidden from him. Sometimes, he finds it absolutely infuriating.

“Stay here,” he orders. He offers her a hint of a smile. “It’s fortunate for you that I spent some time as a hairdresser early in my career.”

“If I had known, sir, I’d have you dye it for me. It’d save me a decent salon bill,” she deadpans.

He smirks in acknowledgment. “Dark wings, fall.” Purple light washes over him, stripping Papillon away so that Gabriel can exit to his office, Nooroo in tow.

Although it’s been many years since Gabriel did hair, he still has his supplies stored away. It doesn’t take long to find his scissors, brush, comb, clips, and a spray bottle, which he fills. He notes — with some amusement — foil, dye brushes, and tubes of old dye in the corner of his bag. Perhaps he will do Nathalie’s signature red streak for her the next time it needs to be touched up. He was always excellent with color.

“Wow, master, I didn’t know you were a real hairdresser!” Nooroo exclaims.

“All artists have survival jobs, Nooroo. At least starting out.”

Gabriel gathers his supplies, as well as a stool for Nathalie to sit on. He is slightly irked to find her to be still transformed as Mayura up in the observatory. “My apologies, miss,” he says sarcastically. “I don’t take walk-ins. My only appointment today is one Nathalie Sancœur.”

Mayura, for her part, scowls at him before dropping her transformation. “Duusu, fall my feathers.”

“Woo woo wooooo, Miss Nathalie!” Duusu exclaims. “Your hair!” The kwami rushes into Nathalie’s long hair, burrowing herself in the red streak. “So soft!”

“Duusu,” Nathalie scolds, a slight blush dusting her cheek that Gabriel wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t scrutinizing her, making certain that the use of the Peacock miraculous hadn’t worn her out to the point of collapse again. But for her part, Nathalie seems to be just fine. She pulls back her hair as much as she can in an easy gesture, and Gabriel realizes that this is the first time he’s ever seen his assistant without her typical no-nonsense bun.

The long hair, however impractical, is quite flattering on her, especially down as it is. But it wouldn’t be like Nathalie to keep such a high-maintenance length.

“Sit,” Gabriel invites.

She does, before noticing the brush in his hands. “Is that necessary, sir?”

“It’s gotten horribly tangled from our escape, Nathalie. Let me deal with the worst of it before I go chopping away at it.”

She scoffs. “Must you always be so dramatic?”

“It’s in my nature,” he responds lightly.

He kneels down to brush out the ends of her hair, which drape heavily on the floor, and the kwamis go fluttering off. He hits a particularly nasty snag, eliciting a sharp gasp from Nathalie. Guiltily, he makes an effort to be more gentle.

Nathalie’s hair is soft and healthy, and it doesn’t take very long for him to work his way up. Before long, he’s running the brush through the hair at her scalp. She lets out a pleased hum, and he can’t help but smile at the reaction.

“Your hair suits you like this, Nathalie. You should try wearing it down once in a while.”

A flash of emotion radiates out from her, faster than he can catch. Suddenly, she hunches over, coughing horribly.

“Nathalie.” He drops the brush and hurries to kneel in front of her. He grips her arms, attempting to steady her as she totters. “You said you were better.”

“I am,” she rasps through fits of coughing. “I was,” she corrects. She manages to catch her breath after a few short wheezes. “I fully recovered from my first few uses of the miraculous. This is not a result of cumulative damage. It’s the normal wear and tear of using the Peacock.”

Gabriel frowns, unconvinced. He holds out his hand, silently pleading for her to give him the brooch.

Nathalie leans back and away from him, covering the miraculous. “I’m fine, sir. Really.”

He pulls his hand back, but is unable to stop himself from reminding her, “You said the same thing the last time you were Catalyst, and look what happened.”

“That was different. I haven’t used the miraculous in months now.”

Gabriel decides to drop the subject for now, sensing that he’ll get nowhere. He stands and tries not to appear too overbearing, lest she shut him out completely. “How long was your hair? Where do I need to cut to?”

Nathalie indicates a length about two inches beyond her shoulders. Gabriel drapes a cape around her shoulders, grabs the spray bottle, and wets her hair before beginning to trim.

He allows himself some artistic liberties. He finds cutting hair relaxing and, dare he say it, _ fun _ after all this time. Rather than giving Nathalie the simple, blunt cut he’s almost certain she had previously, he gives her an extra two inches of length than what she had before and decides to put in some layers.

“I felt your fear at the battle today,” Nathalie interjects as he trims, “though I wasn’t sure about the cause. Care to share, sir?”

Gabriel winces. “It was a reaction to seeing you get hit,” he lies.

“By Rapunzeler. A _ hair _ akuma,” she says, and leaves it at that.

He shakes his head. Other people would pry further and continue to question him, but Nathalie knows that a single dry remark followed by silence is the best way to wear him down. “I almost said your name,” he admits. “Your civilian name.”

“Sir!” she exclaims, whipping her head around to glare at him.

“Careful, Nathalie,” he says, attempting to appear nonchalant. “That almost turned into a pixie cut.”

“Do you have any idea—?” she sputters, though she obediently turns back around to let him finish cutting. “It wouldn’t be difficult for them to connect the dots. They could’ve discovered your identity.”

Gabriel slows in his movements. “They could’ve discovered _ yours_. In fact, it’s almost certain.” He shakes his head and resumes trimming. “It was careless. I apologize.”

“I’m serious, Gabriel, a slip-up like that could ruin everything for you. Please be more careful next time.”

Gabriel pauses, frustration growing within him. “There will be no ‘next time,’ Nathalie. I cannot allow you to go out as Mayura again.”

“But, sir!”

“It’s too dangerous. Especially now that we know the cure won’t work on you.”

“I can handle it,” she insists.

“What if the akuma had been a serious threat to you?” Now that he’s thinking about it, it’s difficult not to picture all the ways that today could have gone totally wrong. “Can you imagine if it had been something like Sandboy? Reflekta? Style Queen?”

“Then control them better!” Nathalie snaps.

Gabriel stops completely, totally stunned at the first outburst he had ever witnessed from his assistant.

“I, uh…” Nathalie stammers, turning to face him with pink cheeks. For once, he can read her feelings, and she’s giving off waves of guilt and embarrassment. “Forgive me.”

Gabriel looks down, finding it difficult to meet her eyes when her emotions are so brazenly on display. “You’re right, to a certain degree. I should get a better hold on my akumas. But I worry about you regardless, Nathalie. What the Peacock can do to its holder is no laughing matter.”

“I appreciate the concern, sir,” she says demurely, turning back around so he can finish cutting. “But I worry for you, as well. I want to be able to help. If you are putting everything on the line, I want to do the same. I _ cannot _ just stand by any longer.”

Gabriel finishes cutting. Nathalie’s words dig deep, but he is unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, Nathalie knows not to wait on words from her introverted boss.

“May I see?” she asks, referring to her hair.

“Of course,” Gabriel says before retrieving a handheld mirror.

Nathalie regards her reflection with a little smile, which drops to a frown as she looks closer at her ends. “That’s not how it was before.”

“Really?” Gabriel asks, feigning ignorance.

She simply rolls her eyes. “Yes, and I’m sure you’re well aware.”

“I think it looks wonderful, Miss Nathalie!” Duusu pipes up from her perch in the window.

“It’ll do.” She retrieves a hairtie from the pocket of her blazer and wraps her hair into a bun. “It’s not as if anyone will see it down.”

“It’s not as if anyone has seen it down before,” Gabriel counters, his words stilling her hands from their task.

Nathalie gazes at him for a moment, as if she’s actually considering his suggestion to wear it out of its usual style. “Perhaps another day,” she decides, finishing up her bun. She takes the mirror from Gabriel and fixes her flyaways. “It’s too damp, anyway.”

“Let me dry it for you.”

She looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Now _ that_, sir, is excessive.” She checks her watch. “Let’s hurry. You have lunch scheduled with Adrien and we’re running late.”

“I fail to see how that’s my fault,” Gabriel says.

“I fail to see how Rapunzeler was meant to be an effective akuma without my involvement,” she retorts. “With all due respect, that was almost as bad as the akumatized baby.”

“Gigantitan. Don’t remind me,” he groans. They continue their walk down to the dining room in comfortable silence.

Adrien is already sitting at his end of the table. “Father,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“Good afternoon, Adrien,” Gabriel greets stiffly. “Nathalie will give you this afternoon’s schedule before we eat.”

He watches Nathalie go to Adrien, still keeping a careful eye on her to make sure she doesn’t wobble. But aside from the small coughing fit from earlier, the Peacock seems not to have affected her as poorly as before. She is steady on her feet and showing no signs of sickness.

“You have Chinese as usual this evening, Adrien,” she says, pointing to it on her tablet. “However, since your photoshoot from this morning was disrupted,” she continues, daring to shoot a glance at Gabriel, “it’ll be moved to your usual fencing time.”

“Yes, Nathalie,” Adrien answers. He looks up at her and furrows his brows. “Your hair is wet.”

She freezes, just for a second. “It’s very humid today,” she covers up. “I had to smooth it down. It was becoming unruly.” She frowns and pushes back his bangs. “You may want to do the same.”

Adrien laughs at that, and Nathalie smiles gently back. The smile drops once she turns back to Gabriel. She narrows her eyes at him as he gives her the tiniest “I told you so” smirk.

“How is your schooling, Adrien?” Gabriel asks, once their meal is brought to them and they are left alone.

His son instantly brightens. “It’s wonderful, Father! I’m learning a lot, and I’m becoming a lot closer with my new friends.”

“Ah, yes, the delinquent DJ. Of course,” Gabriel scolds lightly. For the life of him, he will never understand why his son chooses to associate with such riff raff. Collège Françoise Dupont has some of the best and brightest in the country — Gabriel had made sure of it before caving to Adrien’s request to attend school — but Adrien has somehow latched onto one of the school’s few disappointments.

Adrien’s face falls, enough that Gabriel almost regrets his comment, however true it is. Adrien defends, “Nino is a really good guy, if you gave him the chance to show you. Besides, he’s not the only one I hang out with. There’s Alya, too; she’s super smart! She runs the Ladyblog; she’s a really good reporter!”

“Hmm,” Gabriel says, delicately picking up another forkful of food. He’s looked at the Ladyblog many times, and he finds the young reporter’s work to be inconsistent, at best. While the writing style is engaging and grammatically correct, the blog is full of unchecked facts, spitball theories, and far too much opinion for his taste.

“And Marinette,” Adrien continues. “You know, the one who won your fashion design contest? She’s so talented, but she never lets it go to her head. She’s one of the nicest people I know. She’s really amazing, Father.”

“Yes, I do remember Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

In fact, he’s thought about the young designer quite a bit. Aside from the incident involving his Grimoire many months ago, Gabriel is quite impressed with the girl. She clearly has natural skill and a good work ethic. Gabriel could easily see her interning at his company after graduation. On top of that, she possesses a strong willpower. She had been impossible to akumatize until their botched attempt with Catalyst, and even then, Gabriel isn’t entirely sure that he’d have been able to maintain his hold on her.

From Gabriel’s view as a parent looking for acquaintances for his son, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a gift. From his view as the villain of Paris, she’s an endless source of frustration.

Lila Rossi would surely disagree with his assessment, but lately, Gabriel has had his doubts about the young villainess. She’d not proven as useful as he’d hoped, as either Lila or Volpina, and the more he observed her behavior, the less he wanted her near his son. Furthermore, Adrien seemed to want nothing to do with her, a fact that she regularly disrespected.

Yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a better influence for Adrien.

Decision made, Gabriel says, “She seems to be an acceptable companion. Perhaps we can arrange for her to visit the house sometime soon.”

“Really, Father?” Adrien exclaims, his eyes shining bright. “Thank you! I’d love to have a friend over, even if just to study.”

“Talk to Nathalie later; let her know you have my permission. I’m sure it can be arranged.”

Not much later, Nathalie reenters the dining room. “Adrien, it’s time to go back to school. You’ll be late to afternoon classes.”

Adrien gulps down the rest of his food, leaving Gabriel to wince at his manners. “Okay,” he says, setting down his fork and grabbing his backpack. Before he leaves, he turns back to Gabriel. “You know, Father, the one thing I don’t like about school is getting to see you so much less.”

Gabriel can only blink in surprise.

“Thanks for having lunch with me today.”

“Of course, Adrien,” he manages. “Now go,” he urges, nodding towards the door. “Your bodyguard is waiting.”

He sits in silence for a moment, taking in Adrien’s words. They cut deeper than he would like to admit.

Emilie was always the better parent. Emilie was the doting one. Emilie was the one who invented fun games, planned the best outings, and always had the right thing to say.

The best Gabriel could do was bring her back.

But lately, his regret has been growing stronger than his grief. Over a year has wasted away, and Gabriel realizes that even more distance has grown between he and Adrien.

His son has expressed the desire for more closeness before, but lately, it’s been harder to deny Adrien’s requests. Especially since he’s been spending less time as Papillon in order to dissuade Nathalie from becoming Mayura so often so she can heal.

He may be trying to bring back the boy’s mother, but he doesn’t want to completely destroy his own strained relationship with Adrien in the process.

“Sir?” Nathalie asks, hovering over him. “Are you alright?”

Gabriel clears his throat. “Yes. Nathalie. If you can, I’d like to schedule more meals with Adrien.”

Her expression brightens for a moment, so quickly that he’s almost sure he’s imagined it. “Of course, sir. Which meals did you have in mind?”

“All of them.”

Nathalie nearly drops her stylus. “All?”

Gabriel’s hand shoots out to steady her tablet. “Would that be overdoing it?”

Nathalie struggles to answer, taking a moment to reposition the tablet in her arms. “While the effort is commendable, sir, that’s a rather big change in a short amount of time. May I suggest once per day?”

He lets out a mild chuckle. “Perhaps I am too eager. No breakfast, then. Neither of us is happy that early in the day, anyway. I’ll alternate lunch and dinner. What do you think?”

“I think Adrien will be very happy, sir.” She shares a rare, warm look with him.

However, the moment is quickly broken as she doubles over, coughing. Gabriel takes the tablet and stylus from her, placing them out of the way so he can carefully rub her back. She struggles to catch her breath, gripping his arm as she forces herself upright once more.

“This is only the second time in an hour,” she chokes out. “Much better than the first time as Mayura.”

That much is true, but it’s not enough to stop Gabriel’s worry. “All the same, you should rest. Come.” He guides her through the short walk to the sitting room.

Nathalie manages to catch her breath before they reach their destination. Gabriel can already anticipate what she’s going to suggest.

“No,” he says, causing her own words to die on her lips. _“Rest,_ Nathalie.”

She shakes her head annoyedly, but sits down anyway. “Can I at least have my tablet, sir?”

“That wouldn’t be very restful, would it?” He asks, earning a scowl. “In fact…” He deftly plucks her glasses off and sets them aside.

“Gabriel!” she protests.

“Lay back and get a proper rest. You are of no use to me if you are sick and worn out, Nathalie.”

This seems to be the winning argument. Nathalie lays back in the chair and lets her lids fall. She cracks an eye open at him. “No more than an hour,” she warns.

But for all Nathalie’s stubbornness, it doesn’t take long for her to succumb to sleep. Gabriel carefully watches from his own chair as his assistant’s breathing slows and deepens. Duusu pokes her head in, and with a reminder to be quiet from Gabriel, she settles in silently on Nathalie’s shoulder.

Gingerly, he moves forward to check on her. He bends down and delicately removes her shoes, so as not to wake her. Standing, he gives one last look and brushes her hair back from her eyes, and he’s surprised by the burst of affection that courses through him.

He scoffs at himself internally. That won’t do at all.

Gabriel Agreste may have become careless, but he certainly refuses to add “sentimental” to the list.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's an absolute gift to have another opportunity to akumatize Dark Cupid.
> 
> Or is it?

🦋

Mayura is eager to take flight again sooner than Papillon would have liked.

They’d both been charged up by the recognition of a previous powerful akuma, Dark Cupid. After all, he’d almost won them the battle on Heroes’ Day. Papillon is pleased to find that his target is suffering from heartbreak once again, allowing him to deliver the same powers to his victim.

“Don’t be foolish, sir,” Nathalie argues. “An akuma like this paired with one of my amoks could turn the tide. Let me help.”

“No,” he says, trying to hold steadfast against the temptation. “You’ve transformed too recently. I don’t want to see you decline again, Nathalie.”

“I didn’t even use my amok last time,” she counters. “I had a sore throat for _ half a day__,_ sir. That was a full week ago. I am fully recovered.”

“Do you not recall that the cure doesn’t work on you?” he snaps, turning to face her fully. “I don’t believe you are grasping the full horrors of what may occur if you are caught in the crossfire. You could be hit by Dark Cupid’s power with no way to reverse you.” Nathalie gives him next to no reaction, stirring him to even deeper frustration. “Or even worse, you could be injured,” he presses, grabbing her hands in his own. “You could _ die. _And there would be no way to fix it. Don’t you understand?”

“I understand fully,” she says coolly. “Duusu, spread my feathers!”

In a wash of blue light, Mayura stands defiantly before him. There is no sign of distress or even worry in her pink-tinted eyes.

“Do _ you _ understand, Papillon,” she hums, bringing her hand to cup his jaw in a gesture that delivers an electric shock, “that with an amok to help him, Dark Cupid would be almost unstoppable?”

Papillon wavers, his mind a chaotic mess. Mayura is correct that they have a good chance with this akuma to end the fight for good. He feels his willpower dwindling. She’s successfully broken his argument down piece by piece, and this is the final blow.

“Don’t go out,” he bargains, heart still thundering rebelliously as she removes her hand. “Stay here to create the amok, then detransform quickly.”

She shakes her head. “What would be the point of transforming at all? You know I do my best work in the field.”

Sometimes he wonders if her powers are not of emotion, but of persuasion. “Fine,” he growls. “Mayura!” he calls, grabbing her wrist as she makes a move to exit. “Be. Careful.”

She gives him a coy smile. “Don’t worry about me.” With that, she leaps out the window and starts across the Paris skyline.

After about ten minutes have passed, Papillon can feel the success of Mayura’s venture. She’s created an ingenious sentimonster, a siren, which is a copy of the most recent girl to break Dark Cupid’s heart. They make a formidable team.

_ “The sentimonster has been created, Papillon,” _ Mayura confirms through their communicators.

“Excellent work, Mayura. Return home now.”

_“Yes, Papillon. I’m on my —_ _oh,_ merde,” she breaks off, cursing.

The line goes dead.

“Mayura? Mayura!”

There is a crackle on the other end. And then: _ “Papillon. The second I get to you, I will tear you to fucking shreds. You’re going to wish you were never born, Butterfly Man!” _

Papillon pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to ignore the anxious weight that settles in his gut.

This was not the plan.

He has only a few minutes until the compromised Mayura returns, if even that, so he tears out of the observatory, out of his atelier, and goes in search of anything to restrain her with. Once he locates some rope, he throws it over a sewing mannequin, grabs an old purple jacket, and rushes back upstairs.

He sets the sewing mannequin in the shadows, away from the window. Papillon moves into the opposite corner, hidden, with rope in hand.

Sure enough, Mayura zeroes in on the fake Papillon and leaps for it. The real Papillon is ready with a loop of rope to wrangle Mayura in with.

Mayura is quick, however. In a split second, she jumps to face him, giving him a strong roundhouse kick in the process that sends him flying back, arm aching where her foot made contact.

“Nathalie, I don’t want to fight you,” he warns.

“And I have no interest in giving you what you want,” Mayura snarls, lunging at him again.

Papillon tries to dodge as much as possible without returning fire, but the tactic that typically does well against his teenage foes is not nearly as effective against his older, more skilled partner-turned-opponent. 

“Mayura, stop!” he gasps, barely dodging a powerful punch aimed at his face.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she taunts, going after him even harder.

Eventually, Papillon has no choice but to return blows himself, getting in a few good shots with his cane that have Mayura stumbling back, holding her ribs.

She’s wearing out. It’s a huge advantage in combat, but he worries what this will mean for her later. All the same, he grasps the opportunity provided to deliver one last good punch to the gut, which incapacitates her long enough for him to grab the rope and tie her up, as originally intended.

“You’re a monster,” she bites, having only her mouth free to assault him. “A cowardly, selfish monster.”

Papillon meets her eyes evenly and tightens the rope. “And you, Mayura, are not yourself.” He reminds himself, _ This is not the real Nathalie. _

“And what a relief that is!” She searches his face, narrowing her eyes. “Fall my feathers,” she whispers dangerously.

With Nathalie’s tired, furious, blue eyes staring back at him, he suddenly finds it difficult to hold her gaze.

Duusu, having emerged from the miraculous, flutters nervously to his side.

“Look at me,” Nathalie demands, and Papillon has no choice but to obey. She stares at him with an expression that he has never seen directed at him before and hopefully never will again. “This poor, dull woman. She gives and gives and gives for you, doesn’t she?” As if on cue, she begins to cough violently, a horrid wracking that turns into a bone-chilling throaty laugh. “And what does she get in return? _ Death.” _

“I don’t want that,” Papillon defends stoically. “I have never wanted that.”

“And yet you let her do it anyways!” Nathalie challenges. “If it wasn’t bad enough that you are fighting children _ — children — _you get your loyal assistant to do the dirty work.”

“I have never asked that of her. In fact, I beg her not to.”

She laughs again, a harrowing, broken sound. Papillon is appalled to see blood bubbling up between her lips. “You _ beg._ As if that matters. As if she can watch you destroy yourself and just stand by. What have you actually done to stop her, Papillon? Would you take the Peacock in her stead?” she challenges. Papillon’s throat locks. “It is _ your _ suicide mission after all. Will you just end this senseless quest of self destruction and _ set me free?” _Her beratement ends in a primal scream, barely recognizable as words.

He turns away, hoping Natahlie can’t sense his guilt, fear, and shame, though he’s almost certain she can.

“I hate you,” she hisses, and he is taken aback and wounded at the extent of her vitriol for him. “You have, quite literally, stolen my life. It will end soon, Gabriel, and you’ll have that burden to shoulder, too.”

He swallows.

“It should’ve been you instead,” she breathes.

When the Ladybug cure flashes across the sky, the air he lets out resembles a shaky sob. But of course, he remembers, the cure does nothing for Nathalie. He will have to find another way to fix her, if he even can.

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” she taunts. “You’ve failed yet again, and it doesn’t even bring me back to normal. You’re worse off than you started.”

There has to be something he can do. He knows that Chat Noir was infected during Dark Cupid’s first attack, but he’d been brought back to normal before the akuma was defeated. There was another way, a second way to vitiate Dark Cupid’s curse.

“What are you going to do, great Papillon? Keep me here forever? Am I doomed to rot in Gabriel Agreste’s secret lair for all eternity?”

Ladybug had kissed Chat Noir. That’s what had broken the spell. He recalls how he’d watched the news footage back the evening after the attack, seething at how close he’d come to having the Ladybug miraculous, if not the Cat as well. All it had taken to restore Chat Noir was for Ladybug to pull his face down to hers and bring their lips together.

There’d been plenty of speculation later as to how it worked, and the general conclusion was that only a true love’s kiss could break the curse. There were eyewitness accounts of civilians who had tried to do the same when the chaos broke out. Kisses between friends hadn’t succeeded. It was only those between couples, or people who had been harboring secret love for each other, that had had the intended effect.

He clenches his hands into fists. It wouldn’t work on Nathalie. It _ shouldn’t _work on Nathalie. However, there was no other possible approach. Weighing his options, he finds he has only one.

“Well? Am I sentenced to waste away here forever?”

“No,” he says, turning back to her. For once, this compromised Nathalie looks surprised at his response. “I will let you go.” He starts towards her.

“If you think this will earn me back, you’re dead wrong. The second I’m free, you’re toast.”

“I know,” Papillon says, kneeling in front of her. “It’s no more than I deserve.” He leans in, pretending to undo the knots.

A part of him desperately hopes it will not work. But he owes it to Nathalie to try. He pushes forward as much affection he can as he tenderly meets her lips.

He hates how they taste like blood.

Swiftly, he draws away, watching for any sign of change. Within seconds, the hardened look in Nathalie’s eye falls away to reveal something far gentler.

He allows his sigh to be one of relief, locking away all of his questions, worries, and hypotheses about what just happened. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to spend a thought on it ever again. The only factor of importance is that Nathalie is back to her normal self.

Although his thoughts are in check, the resulting emotions are not. “Gabriel,” Nathalie chokes, looking up at him in concern.

He’s sure she can sense the churning sorrow and dismay within him, but he refuses to acknowledge it. “My apologies, Nathalie,” he stumbles, reaching to untie her binds, for real this time. “You were compromised.”

“Sir,” she rasps, reaching out tentatively once she’s released from the restraints. “Your emotions… they’re overwhelming. What happened? Are you — ?”

“It’s fine, Nathalie,” he insists, standing in order to regain some ground. “I was simply concerned for your wellbeing.”

She furrows her brows, looking around the room. “I got hit by Dark Cupid,” she recalls.

“Yes.”

“But I’m back to normal. How — ? Did the cure work on me?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Then what?”

Papillon freezes. He reminds himself that the kiss bears no significance; it is simply what he had to do to free his friend from a terrible curse, but he finds that he can’t tell Nathalie the truth. “It faded of its own accord a few minutes after the akuma was defeated,” he lies. Duusu gives him a confused look, and he shakes his head. Thankfully, the kwami says nothing, and he continues, “The cure did nothing.” He frowns, remembering his other concern. “Speaking of which, I had no choice but to fight you. I hope you are not injured.”

Nathalie straightens up, wincing. “It’s not too bad. A few tender spots, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he demands. “Dark wings, fall.”

Nooroo comes to perch on his shoulder, looking mournful once he becomes aware of his surroundings.

Nathalie stifles a few coughs as she unbuttons her blazer. She tentatively lifts the hem of her shirt to inspect the damage. Nooroo gasps, and Gabriel has to stifle his own reaction.

Her injuries are not as bad as they could be, but they’re still enough to make him feel ill. Every single one — the little bruise above her hip, the red lash across her ribs, and the deep purple bloom traversing her stomach — they’re all by his hand.

He can’t help but be sent to his knees at the sight.

Nathalie’s eyes widen. She lunges for him, grabbing his arms. “No, no, no, it’s not your fault —” She is cut off by another bout of horrible coughing. “It’s not —”

“Of course it is. All of it is,” he murmurs, holding her as the coughing subsides. “Lie down, just for a minute at least,” he says. “You look pale.”

He shrugs off his jacket and folds it as a pillow under her head. He can’t stop his eyes from flickering to Nathalie’s stomach.

“I’m okay,” she reassures him quietly.

“Let me see again.”

“It’s bruised. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Please,” he breathes.

She gives him a curious look again that seems to pierce right through him. He’s not quite sure what she finds, but it seems to be what she’s looking for, because she pulls her shirt up again.

He traces his fingers lightly over her bruising. She lets out a shuddering breath.

He recoils his hand, remorseful for hurting her once again. “I’m sorry,” he sighs.

“You wouldn’t have done it if you had another choice,” she reasons. Her expression becomes troubled. “I was horrific, wasn’t I?”

“No, of course not.”

“You had to fight me. Physically.” She hesitates. “And, Gabriel. You look… haunted. Something happened.”

“It’s as you said, Nathalie, I had to engage you in combat, which I certainly did not want to do. As for any rude words exchanged: I did not take them to heart.”

He supposes it’s technically true. Right now, they swim heavily in his gut instead.

“What did I say to you?” She looks nervous. “Did I mention anything of — of…?”

“Nothing of significance,” he insists. He doesn’t want to rehash this, especially not to her, and it seems that she could use the peace of ignorance. “The typical — ‘I hate you,’ and ‘die, fiend.’” Nathalie looks unconvinced, so, hoping to lighten the mood, he quips, “You called me ‘Butterfly Man.’”

Nathalie graces him with a small laugh, though it soon devolves into another stretch of coughing. One particularly forceful cough leaves her hand bloody.

“Now, that concerns me,” Gabriel says. “It could be a sign of a serious injury. I should call a doctor.”

“No,” Nathalie gasps, forcing herself to recover. “No, it’s normal. It’s from the Peacock.”

“Are you absolutely sure? That never happened before,” he frets.

Nathalie’s eyes dart away. “Not that you saw.”

Gabriel rubs his face, aggravation tearing at him. “You hid your symptoms from me?”

“You were worried enough as it was. I didn’t want to cause further concern.”

Gabriel shakes his head, not wanting to engage in this argument right now, though Nathalie will certainly hear an earful from him later. “You need to rest,” he says. “Properly. Can you stand?”

She nods, and he helps her to her feet. She stumbles a bit, looking woozy, but Gabriel is quick to hold her upright against his chest.

“I’m okay,” she says, rising up. “It’s passed.”

Gabriel assists her out of the observatory, through the atelier, and to the nearest guestroom.

Nathalie tenses outside the door. “That won’t be necessary.”

“You need to rest in a proper bed, Nathalie,” he insists, opening the door and coaxing her inside. “Besides, Adrien will be back from fencing soon, and I’d rather he not find you like this.”

“Adrien!” she exclaims. She frantically checks her watch. “I completely forgot, sir. You have dinner with your son at —”

“19 _ heures__._ I know. _ Rest, _ Nathalie.”

She gives him a sour look, but eventually sighs, giving in. Gabriel helps her wipe the blood from her hand and then steadies her as she slips out of her shoes. She shrugs off her blazer and drapes it neatly over the chair. She pauses before reaching to let down her hair, which cascades down in waves on her shoulders. She sets her elastic carefully on the nightstand.

Gabriel holds out his hand expectantly. His eyes flicker down to the Peacock brooch.

Nathalie takes it off, but she doesn’t hand it over. She looks over at the kwamis, who have been quietly following behind. “I want Duusu to stay out,” she states, laying the miraculous next to her hair tie. She looks back at Gabriel with a quiet, intense gaze — a subtle challenge.

Gabriel makes no acknowledgment of her request. He steps forward and removes her glasses from her face, setting them down on the nightstand as well. He leaves the Peacock where it is and draws back the bedcovers. Nathalie nods, knowing quite well that she’s won this round, and slips into bed.

“I apologize for anything I said,” she offers as an olive branch. “I hope you know that none of it is true.”

Gabriel suspects that at least part of it was, but he will not say so, for Nathalie’s sake. “All is forgiven,” he promises, placing a hand on her arm. “Can you afford the same for me?”

“Of course,” she responds, laying her own hand over his. Warmth spreads through him.

He flinches back. “You need ice. I’ll return shortly.” He hurries out of the room, trying to leave all thoughts of Nathalie behind him.

It seems the kwamis won’t allow him to do so. “Mister Gabriel,” Duusu chirps, quieter than Gabriel has ever heard her.

He sighs. “Yes, Duusu?”

“Is Miss Nathalie really dying?”

He draws in a sharp breath. “I will not let it come to that.”

“But she could if she keeps using the miraculous?”

“Yes,” Gabriel admits. “That’s why I insist on her resting. I don’t wish to see her hurt.”

Duusu sniffles, eyes welling with tears. “And it’s because of me. I’m killing Miss Nathalie!”

Nooroo nuzzles up against her in a comforting gesture. Gabriel can’t help but feel a pang of pity for the Peacock kwami. Her poor mind is so fractured that she doesn’t even remember Emilie, or how her use of the miraculous destroyed her. She is experiencing the fear and grief of losing her holder for the first time all over again.

“It’s not your fault, Duusu,” he says, and he is surprised to recognize that he means it. “The miraculous itself is damaged. There is nothing you could do any differently.”

Duusu hiccups and rubs her eyes. “Okay.” She cocks her head, remembering something. “Why did you kiss Miss Nathalie? Are you in love?”

“You kissed Nathalie?” Nooroo exclaims.

Gabriel rubs his temples, feeling the beginning of a headache, or at least a potential one. “I did what had to be done. A kiss breaks Dark Cupid’s spell. That is all.”

“But —” Nooroo starts.

“Duusu should go back to be with Nathalie,” Gabriel says pointedly. “She specifically requested you, did she not?”

“Oh,” Duusu gasps, “I almost forgot!” She lets out excited yelps as she spirals up the staircase and back toward the bedroom.

Gabriel tries to ignore Nooroo’s stare as he opens the freezer to retrieve an ice pack. However, the small being’s eyes are surprisingly heavy on him. “What is it, Nooroo?” he asks, exasperated.

“That’s not how Dark Cupid’s spell works, Master,” the kwami says nervously.

“It’s exactly how it works,” Gabriel says, avoiding Nooroo’s eye. “A kiss breaks the curse.” He grabs a towel and begins his venture back upstairs.

“But a kiss only works if there is romantic love in it! That means —”

“Nooroo,” Gabriel interjects sharply.

He knows what the implications are, as much as he does not want to address them. At least one of them holds feelings for the other.

And he is quite certain that no woman would find Papillon to be a great catch.

He squares his shoulders irritatedly, anticipating that his kwami will not let this go. He lets out a heavy sigh. “Nathalie is an intelligent, determined, beautiful woman,” he confides quietly, discovering all these things to be quite true as he speaks them aloud. “Of course I have noticed her. But my loyalty is, and remains to _Emilie__,_ my wife.” He gives Nooroo a hard look. “My affections may have gotten out of control, but my mind is made up. If you think that you can convince me to give up on my goal, you are mistaken. Besides, I’m sure Nathalie would not be pleased to hear that her boss has been having inappropriate thoughts. We will not speak on this subject again.”

Nooroo gapes at him, his little mouth fallen far open. “But, Master, I don’t think you understand —”

“This conversation is over.” He turns on his heel and heads back upstairs, cheeks burning from the confrontation. Nooroo follows, obedient and silent.

He forces himself to be cold and professional when he reenters the room. While it was lucky that the kiss worked, it’s a symptom of something very worrying. He has let his mind wander too much when it comes to Nathalie. He cannot allow it to happen further. Implications of what it could mean for his marriage aside, it could also damage the delicate balance he has with his partner in crime, which could be a fatal mistake for both of them.

Unfortunately, Nathalie is already asleep, which leaves Gabriel to give her ice and remove it at the appropriate time. He braces himself, disciplining his mind. He will _ not _ be affected again.

Therefore, when he pulls back the covers and lifts her shirt, he feels nothing at the sight of her bruises, not even the slightest twinge. He doesn’t allow himself to.

He puts the towel-wrapped ice pack on her stomach and sits back in the nearest chair. His mind is still churning, but he’s far more grounded than before, with his emotions now in check.

Duusu is soundly asleep in the crook of Nathalie’s neck, and Nooroo flutters over to join her. He settles in on her chest, giving Gabriel a look that he supposes is meant to make him feel guilty. The kwami’s eyes search his face, wide and pleading, before he sighs and turns over, facing away from Gabriel.

Gabriel trusts that Nooroo will not say anything to Nathalie about what has transpired. However, he cannot say the same for Duusu. He desperately hopes that his explanations will be enough that she does not bring up the kiss again, especially not in front of Nathalie.

He shudders at the thought. His assistant is remarkably professional, and always has been. He cannot imagine the fallout if she were to discover that he held some secret attraction towards her, no matter how small. Nathalie has put up clear boundaries, and he has crossed them, albeit unintentionally. He doesn’t think he can stand for yet another important person to leave his life. He doesn’t know for sure how Nathalie would react, but he suspects that it would not be pleasant.

And yet, even though he’s managed to still his emotions, his mind betrays him as well. The dam has broken, and there’s nothing left to hold back the stream of thoughts that he has been repressing. Logically, it would be nice for Nathalie to return his affections. It is an objective fact that Gabriel has grown lonely. As Papillon, he has lost hope and energy. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep doing this, and wouldn’t it be that much easier to give it up and move on if there was a light at the other end of the tunnel?

It’s an absurd thought, and a useless one to ponder, at that.

After all, Nathalie does not feel the same way.

That’s not the only thing weighing on him, however. Even more worrying than some unexpected attraction is Nathalie’s health.

_ “What does she get in return? Death.” _

No, he won’t let that happen. He won’t.

Twenty minutes speed by as Gabriel cycles through these thoughts, trying to push them out of his mind and failing every time. He rises, feeling as though he’s just sat down, to remove the ice from Nathalie’s stomach. He pulls back the covers and picks up the ice pack, nearly dropping it as he sees the shape that Nathalie’s bruises have formed in.

A blotchy purple butterfly stares boldly back at him.

This time he can’t control the pressing guilt and shame that well up within him. He hastily pulls down her shirt, repositions the covers, and flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel is not the only one shaken after Dark Cupid. The akuma has had a profound impact on Adrien too. The cost of being Papillon seems to grow higher and higher.

🦋

If Gabriel thought his meal with Adrien would be an escape from his troubles with Nathalie, he was mistaken.

Adrien comes in, quieter than usual, and slumps at the table, straightening up once he meets Gabriel’s disapproving gaze. Once his eyes are raised, he is quick to notice something is out of place.

“Where’s Nathalie?” he immediately asks.

Perhaps it’s the heavy energy of the room, perhaps it’s Gabriel’s guilty expression, or perhaps it’s just the fact that Nathalie is usually always present, save for when the use of the miraculous has weakened her. Whatever it is that has spurred the question, it’s enough for Adrien to look expectantly for an answer, which means Gabriel must give him one.

“There was an error in a large order that needed to be sorted out. Nathalie has been on the phone with them for several hours, and I expect she will be for several more.”

Adrien seems to find this to be an acceptable answer, as he nods and looks down to the dinner placed in front of him.

Gabriel doesn’t start his own meal yet, observing how Adrien pushes potatoes around on his plate without actually eating anything. “Your food is not a toy, Adrien. Eat properly.”

Adrien stiffens. “Yes, Father.”

Gabriel frowns. Ever since they’d begun to dine together more frequently, Gabriel has found that his relationship with his son has been improving, even if only incrementally. For whatever reason, today seems to be an exception, and he finds himself annoyed at Adrien’s lack of attention.

He isn’t sure whether it’s the dejected downturn of Adrien’s shoulders, or if it’s his worry for Nathalie that softens him. “You seem upset,” he observes, not missing the way Adrien freezes mid-bite. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at _ collège?” _

“No,” Adrien says, shaking his head and avoiding Gabriel’s eyes. He follows this with a fraction of a shrug. “Well, kinda, but not really. It’s an akuma thing.”

Gabriel’s blood runs cold. He hadn’t sensed at any point that Adrien was affected by Dark Cupid, but then again, Nathalie had been a huge distraction. “Did you get hit?” Gabriel demanded. “Were you not well hidden?”

“No, I was!” Adrien protests. “It’s not me that got hit; it’s…”

Gabriel sighs, relieved. “Whatever was said to you, Adrien, you can’t take it seriously. You know Dark Cupid’s victims are not in control of themselves.”

“I know,” Adrien says quickly. “That’s not it, at least not all of it.”

Adrien squirms in his seat, and Gabriel finds himself curious at what has worked his son up to such a state. Adrien is typically so controlled and at ease, even in the face of akumas, but for whatever reason, this one seems to have gotten under his skin.

Gabriel quirks an eyebrow, waiting patiently for Adrien to continue. Adrien glowers and lets out a frustrated huff. He slouches back in his seat, and this time, Gabriel does not correct him, as much as he wants to.

“My… friend got hit. Marinette.”

“She has a gentle disposition,” Gabriel observes. “I’m sure Dark Cupid made her quite a fiend.”

Adrien lets out a little laugh, despite himself. “She was terrifying.” He sobers up again. “She was really mad. At me. Specifically.”

“That’s to be expected. The two of you are close friends.” Gabriel pauses, his eyes searching Adrien for any sign of harm, but he looks fine. “Did she attack you? Physically?”

“No, nothing like that. She didn’t get the chance.”

Gabriel can tell that Adrien is hesitating, unsure if he wants to divulge the full story. Gabriel silently resumes cutting his steak, hoping to give him the space he needs to continue.

“I kissed her,” Adrien breathes, as if he doesn’t dare it to be true.

Suddenly, the situation is much clearer. “Ah. And I take it it worked?”

Adrien flushes, dark enough that Gabriel can notice from the other end of the table. “Yes.” Adrien lays down his knife and fork. “And I know how Dark Cupid’s spell works. It only could have done anything if…” Adrien trails off, clearly distressed.

“She probably likes you,” Gabriel helpfully supplies. Adrien gapes at him. “Come now, Adrien. There are worse things that could happen than a girl showing interest.”

“But that’s just it!” Adrien blurts out. “She doesn’t! I know for a fact that Marinette only likes me as a friend.”

Well, then. There’s only one other possibility, and it’s not too far off from Gabriel’s own predicament. “So, you like _ her_. Are you fearful this will ruin your friendship?”

Adrien looks at him again as if he’s grown a second head. “N-no. I mean, yes? But that’s not all of it. It’s just that… well, I like someone else. Or, at least, I _ thought _I did.”

“I understand how that complicates manners.”

“And I’m worried about the friendship too, of course! Marinette and I got off on the wrong foot, and I worry sometimes that we never moved fully past that. I don’t want her to feel even more uncomfortable with me. Especially since I’m pretty sure she likes someone else.”

That was news to Gabriel. If anything, he’d thought the girl harbored affection for his son. But of course, Adrien would know better than he did. “Hmm. Does she know you kissed her?”

“Of course!” Adrien exclaims. “I wouldn’t lie to her!”

Gabriel’s lip twitches with irritation. “Of course.”

Adrien continues to look at him, waiting for some kind of guidance.

“What about the other girl?” Gabriel asks. Adrien has never mentioned a crush to him before. He’s certainly never asked to go on any dates. Gabriel is fairly sure he would have remembered if it had been brought up.

“I lo—like her. A lot. But she, uh, doesn’t feel the same. She’s in love with someone else.”

“I see.”

“I just don’t know what it all means!” Adrien stabs a potato a bit more violently than is polite, but Gabriel says nothing. “I mean, don’t two people need to have mutual feelings for each other for the kiss to work?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Gabriel snaps. “I don’t think —” He stops, realizing that having too much of an opinion on the matter may be suspect. “I suppose it’s impossible to know for sure, but by my guess, a one-sided crush is enough. Think of all the people who were cured through a kiss. It was hundreds, was it not?” Adrien nods, engaged in Gabriel’s words. “I highly doubt that there were that many cases of ‘true love.’ Life isn’t a fairytale, Adrien.”

Adrien stares at him as if he’s broken all his hopes and dreams, and his heart to boot.

Gabriel sighs. He supposes it’s not the end of the world if he sugarcoats it a little, if only to ease a bit of his son’s pain. After all, Adrien doesn’t know about Gabriel’s own Dark Cupid encounter, and he doesn’t ever have to. He can think what he wants about how the curse works.

“Of course, that’s just the view of a cynical older man. There’s no way of knowing for sure. They call this ‘the city of love,’ after all.”

Adrien’s expression loses its woundedness, though he still looks confused and conflicted. “So what do I do?”

Gabriel quirks an eyebrow at him. “You know I can’t answer that for you, son.”

“Father, _ please.” _

Gabriel shakes his head. “There are no right or wrong answers when it comes to dating. It’s a complicated matter that you must navigate on your own.”

Adrien groans, pushing his plate away, and lets his head fall onto the table, cradled by his arms. 

“I don’t say it to be cruel, Adrien. But I can’t tell you what to do.”

“So then what would _ you _do?”

Gabriel rubs his face tiredly. Adrien won’t give up until he’s been given some sort of guidance. He wishes that Nathalie was in any condition to handle this conversation instead of him.

Well, he’s certainly _ not _going to tell Adrien what he’d do. He doesn’t need him piecing things together.

“I’d say that, under the circumstances, you might find this a good time to reevaluate how you feel about Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He thinks back to what he knows of Adrien’s relationship with his young designer friend. “You undoubtedly care about this girl a lot. It may be that the nature of your own feelings is not entirely clear to yourself.”

Adrien nods thoughtfully. Still looking slightly troubled, he says, “I do care about her a lot. I guess I’ll have to think about it.”

“Your dinner with her next week may be a good opportunity to test the waters.”

Adrien suddenly eyes him suspiciously. “This isn’t what _ you _would do, is it?”

“I never said it was,” Gabriel replies with a smirk. “It’s not what I would do as Gabriel Agreste.” He lays down his fork, having finished his meal. “However, it is what I would do if I were _ you.” _

Adrien still looks unconvinced.

Gabriel pats his lips with his napkin and sighs. “Or at the very least, it’s what I think you should do. That’s what you wanted me to tell you in the first place, isn’t it?”

Adrien smiles. “Yeah,” he says, laughing a little. “I guess so.”

The kitchen staff clear their plates, and the two of them stand.

“Um, Father?” Adrien asks. He scuffs the ground with the toe of his shoe.

“Yes?”

“There’s nothing on my schedule for the rest of the day. And my friends are going to the movies soon.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Could I go with them? Please?”

Gabriel clenches his teeth. At Nathalie’s suggestion, he has tried to be more lenient with his teenage son, but every instinct in his body is still screaming, _ “PROTECT! PROTECT! PROTECT!” _

Still, he wants his son to be happy. And he also wants his son to never find out what is actually wrong with Nathalie. If Adrien is out of the house for a few hours, he’s less likely to see or hear something that he shouldn’t.

Gabriel gives a small nod of approval. Adrien whoops and runs forward to surprise him with a hug.

“Thank you, Father!”

“Of course.” A small smile quirks on his lips as he looks down at the top of Adrien’s head. “Have fun with Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien backs away, tripping over himself and sputtering with a bright red face. “How did you—?” He shakes his head, forcing composure. “I will,” he says with a sheepish grin and a wave over his shoulder.

“Stay with your bodyguard!” Gabriel calls after him. He shakes his head, turning away as he hears the front door close. He sinks down into a chair and puts his head in his hands.

A commotion in the hallway has him jumping to his feet again. He recognizes the sound of clattering heels, which can only mean that Nathalie is up.

She’s pitifully clinging to the banister when he rushes in, clearly fighting off another dizzy spell. Duusu dances around her nervously, making upset wailing noises. Nooroo hovers more calmly behind, though not totally without worry.

“Nathalie,” Gabriel scolds lightly, hurrying to her side. He untangles her arms from around the railing and helps ease her to a seated position on the steps. She sighs, head drooping as she gives in to gravity. Gabriel pulls her in and leans her up against himself. “You shouldn’t be up.”

“Sorry, sir,” she says. “Duusu was hungry, and I thought, given what time it is, I should get something for myself too.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “I was just about to go check on you.”

Nathalie pulls herself up to sit on her own, not without effort, he notices.

He frowns. “Well, given that you’re already down here... ” he trails off. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” she assures him. “Much better already.”

Still, he makes sure to help her up. Her legs wobble a bit as she stands, so he snakes an arm around her waist to help bear some of the weight. “Let’s get you into the atelier.”

She tries to go to her desk, but he leads her to the rarely used couch instead.

“I said I’m fine, sir,” she protests.

“And I believe you,” he says, even though he doesn’t. “However, my only remaining assignment for you today is to rest.”

She scowls, but all the same, allows him to lay her down, propping her head up with several pillows.

She opens her mouth to say something, but falls into a fit of coughing.

“Nathalie?”

She nods and gives him a thumbs up, despite being unable to stop. He lays a hand on her shoulder and says, “I’ll go have the kitchen prepare something. Perhaps soup, or something soothing for the throat.”

She nods again in affirmation. He squeezes her shoulder and leaves to put in the order.

He returns soon after, delivering it himself so the rest of the staff doesn’t question too much. Nathalie is shivering when he returns, affirming that his choice of meal was the correct one. “Chicken soup,” he announces, placing it in front of her. “I hope this will help.” He lays a hand on her trembling back, hoping to warm her, before becoming self-conscious about their closeness and moving away.

“It looks wonderful,” she rasps. She clears her throat, but it doesn’t do much. “Thank you.” She lets go of the folded position her arms have come to.

Gabriel moves over to the thermostat and bumps it up a few degrees, despite the fact that it feels rather toasty in here to him already. He glances back over to her. “And coffee for Duusu.”

“Thank you, Mister Gabriel!” Duusu squeaks before plunging headfirst into the cup. Nathalie smiles a little, but there is tension written on her face.

“I still think you should let me call a doctor,” he informs Nathalie as he returns to her side. Perhaps it’s the shivering, or maybe the way she is curled in on herself, but there is something about her that seems so incredibly fragile as she picks up her spoon and pulls the bowl closer.

“For what reason?” Nathalie counters. “I know you’re concerned, and I appreciate it, sir, but we both know that the damage of the miraculous is nothing that a traditional doctor can fix. Continuing to have me seen by one is bound to arouse suspicion and attract a—attention —” She begins to cough again. Gabriel slips into the seat next to her and offers a hand for her to grip as she tries to steady herself.

“I don’t want you going out as Mayura again,” he says once the coughing has subsided.

She closes her eyes, and her mouth becomes a thin line. “I thought we went over this. I can’t just stand by and do nothing when so much is at risk.”

“I know,” Gabriel says. He lets go of his hold on her hand. “I’m thinking of retiring Papillon.”

She draws in a sharp breath, which leads to a few more coughs, but thankfully, not another full fit. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

Her eyes are filled with surprise and worry. “There’s something you’re not telling me about today. What did I say to you that was so drastic —?”

“Nothing that I haven’t already divulged,” he assures her. “Beyond all else, it’s Adrien that’s making me reconsider.”

“Adrien? Did something happen? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Just a little flustered. It seems that Dark Cupid caused a somewhat awkward situation between a friend and him.”

Her brow furrows. “And that’s enough to make you want to give up on your goal?”

“It’s more than that,” Gabriel protests. “I admit that I have not been the most attentive when it comes to my son. I am now realizing that he is happier with more freedom. But I cannot give him that freedom without making sure he is safe, and I cannot ensure he is _ safe _ if…”

“... If you’re Papillon,” Nathalie finishes for him. She lays down her spoon, leaning back to give him her full attention.

“Exactly,” he sighs. “I thought the best thing I could do for Adrien was to bring back his mother. But I must accept that he is growing up. Perhaps… it’s not what he needs anymore.” The words are tentative on his lips, being sentiments that he hasn’t dared to speak or even think before. In some ways, it feels liberating to finally express them, but that doesn’t stop his feelings of guilt at broken promises sinking like a stone within him as he looks up to meet the eyes of the portrait of Emilie.

Nathalie is unmoving, giving him silent, but firm comfort. She then reaches out and curls her fingers around his wrist, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“I don’t want to deprive him of the rest of his childhood,” he confesses. “And I don’t want to see him hurt.” He adjusts his hand, moving her fingers from around his wrist to clasp with his own. “What do you think I should do?” he asks quietly.

Nathalie blinks at him, looking shocked to have been asked the question at all. “I — I think you should be sure before you make any big decisions.” She brings her other hand to her chest, regarding him earnestly. “You know I will support your choice no matter what. I will follow whatever is best for you and Adrien.”

She looks down at their joined hands as if she’s only just realizing that they are interlocked. She lets in an audible breath and detangles her hand from his, pulling politely away. Gabriel curses himself once more for being overly familiar.

“I know you will,” he says, shaking off his embarrassment before she can detect it. “But what do you think should be done? I want your opinion, Nathalie.”

“I can’t tell you that, sir,” she says, shoulders rising. She shakes her head and finally meets his eyes again. She softens. “If you must know, I think you should trust your instincts. If you don’t believe this is best for Adrien anymore, then it’s probably not.” She pushes up her glasses and frowns. “But please, don’t make any rash decisions. I’d hate for you to act on the events of today and regret it down the road.” She looks up at Emilie’s portrait, looming tall over them both. “I know she means everything to you.”

He nods, also feeling the weight of his wife’s eyes on him. “I won’t decide for good. But until I do…” He reaches up and unpins the brooch from his shirt.

“Master?” Nooroo questions.

Gabriel offers a hand of reassurance for the kwami to fly into. He doesn’t renounce his miraculous, but he does slide it into his pocket, out of view.

“...Papillon’s plans are on hiatus.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
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> Here's my question for you, readers: Do you think Papillon will give up for good?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel takes a break from being Papillon. Nathalie gets sicker. Adrien gets mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little early, but I'm impatient and I don't know if I'll be able to do a Friday or Saturday update. This may mean that the wait for the next update will feel longer. Sorry! I may try to put out the next chapter next Friday so you guys aren't waiting too much longer than a week.

🦋

Over the next few days, Nathalie’s bruises fade.

Her illness does not.

In fact, it gets worse. The dizzy spells and coughing fits return two-fold, and Nathalie seems to get weaker and weaker every day. 

Gabriel is lucky to catch her when, two days later, she collapses mid stride on her way to his desk. He lunges forward, barely grabbing a hold of her before her head can hit the ground.

He lays her out on the floor, immediately trying to make her responsive. “Nathalie!” he calls, gently jostling her. A cold fear latches in his heart that it’s the end already — this is the day that she falls into an eternal sleep, just like Emilie. But as he touches her cheek, he feels some warmth, and Nathalie groggily leans into the touch before she comes to her senses.

She blinks her eyes open. They are hazy and unfocused, clearly not keyed in on his face. “Gabriel?” she mumbles. “What happened?” It takes a few moments, but she finally seems to regain her bearings, noticing her surroundings. She groans, letting her head sink back against the tiled floor.

“You collapsed. Are you okay, Nathalie?”

She draws in a deep breath before pulling herself into a seated position. “Yes, of course. I’m terribly sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he says simply.

“Well, for the inconvenience, if nothing else,” she comments, adjusting her clothes. She begins to stand.

“Stop,” Gabriel orders, but her knees are already buckling under her before he can even finish the word. He quickly catches her once more, scooping her up in his arms this time to carry her to the couch. “You need to _ rest,” _he grits out.

“The day I rest willingly is the day you should call the morgue,” she comments dryly. 

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m aware.” He lays her down.

“Sir, I may be weak at the moment, but I’m not incapable. Besides, the work doesn’t pause for my health.” She purses her lips at him when she realizes he won’t budge. “At least bring me my tablet.”

Gabriel hesitates. On one hand, Nathalie is in no condition to be working, but she is incredibly stubborn. He worries that letting her go stir crazy will only lead to recklessness on her part.

“Will you promise to stay here on this couch if I do?” he bargains.

Nathalie’s eyes search his, analytical and calculating. “That is acceptable,” she concedes.

Situations such as this become all too common over the next week, to the point where Gabriel delegates as much work away from Nathalie as possible, especially anything that forces her to leave the house, and preferably, his office at all. He does what he can to bring items to her and retrieve them from her himself when she needs to deliver something, but he can only make so many excuses. It doesn’t take long for Nathalie to catch on, and although she doesn’t dare challenge him, she shoots him a scowl every time he visits her desk on business.

Papillon stays inactive for the time being. Beyond the fact that he’s considering ending his reign of terror for good, he knows that if he resurges now, Nathalie will push herself again, and that’s not something that she can afford.

But it’s not enough. Fainting spells become common, and Gabriel is quite disturbed when he thinks about how far along in her deterioration Emilie was when this sort of thing started occurring. He tries not to let such thoughts plague his mind, electing to focus on Nathalie’s healing instead.

The one advantage they have in this situation is that Emilie never stopped using the miraculous when she began to fall ill, but it is different with Nathalie. With her own usage far more rare, there should be plenty of time for her to recover. In the meantime, he does what he can to ease the load and make her comfortable. Despite the fact that her attire mainly consists of thick sweaters and blazers, Nathalie is cold all the time now. He makes the sacrifice of forgoing his own jacket in order to keep the temperature permanently higher, though it doesn’t seem to help much. He purchases several fluffy blankets and makes a habit of draping them around Nathalie’s shoulders when he finds her shivering.

If there is any progress, it’s slow, and it seems that Nathalie is determined to get worse before and _ if _she gets better. The fainting continues, as well as random bouts of wooziness, shaking, chills, and of course, coughing fits that often leave her tissues bloody, something that Gabriel notices now that he’s tuned into it.

The longer it goes, the harder it is to not react to it. Each cough creates pain in his own chest. Each collapse makes him dizzy with worry. As much as he tries to tamper down the emotional response, he can’t. It certainly doesn’t help that Duusu is sent into hysterics every time either.

And just when it seems like it can’t get much worse, it does.

All Gabriel’s attempts to prevent another terrible scare fail one morning. Nathalie has been at her desk, busy at work, but at least resting physically. He brings her everything she needs, as usual, brushing off her scowl with a pleasant smile.

At one point he leaves the office make a call, not wishing to distract Nathalie as she is trying to complete her own work. Immediately, as he’s returning, he can tell something is wrong. There’s a bad energy in the air, something that lingers with too much stillness, too much silence. His fears are confirmed as Duusu and Nooroo speed down the hallway in plain view, something that they know not to do unless…

Nooroo barely has the chance to cry “Master, it’s Nathalie—” before Gabriel is sprinting down the hall.

He throws open the door, appalled to find Nathalie splayed out on the floor on her back, coughing the worst, most violent coughs he’s heard from her yet. Her head is turned, and flecks of blood are splattered across the black and white tile under her, accumulating with each hack. As he rushes to her, he sees blood smeared across the side of her face as well.

“Nathalie!” he cries, as he drops to her side. She looks up at him with wide eyes, and he nearly flinches back as he registers panic in them, an emotion he has never seen from his assistant before.

The coughs are intermingled with strangled wheezing, and he realizes, with horror, that Nathalie is struggling for air. “Need… assistance…” she manages to choke out.

For a moment, Gabriel freezes, afraid and unsure of what to do. Nathalie is always calm, always controlled, and seeing her like this shakes him to the core. However, as blood catches in her throat, bringing unwilling tears to her eyes, he springs into action. He scoops her into his arms and rushes her to the couch, helping her into a seated position with her head hanging between her knees. He puts a reassuring hand on her back. Nathalie tries to cover her mouth, but he swats her hand away.

“No,” he says, “Let it out.”

“But, sir,” she protests through asphyxiated gasps, barely comprehensible.

“The floor will be fine,” he snaps, feeling guilty for his brashness, but knowing there’s no time for pleasantries. “Just let it out.”

Blood splatters from between her lips to between her feet. Gabriel moves his hand in slow, soothing movements on her back.

“Breathe,” he encourages. Although the coughing doesn’t cease entirely, it becomes more sparse, and soon Nathalie is not gasping for air the way she had been before.

“Better?” he asks, honestly more for his own sake than hers. “At least a little?”

She nods in response. The coughing starts to slow.

“Did you hurt yourself on the way down at all?”

She shakes her head aggressively. This seems to aggravate her coughing once more. Her glasses, which were already perched precariously on the edge of her nose, fall to the ground with a clatter.

She isn’t choking this time, but it seems that the constant hacking is a bit too much for her to bear. The next series of coughs dissolve into retching that she struggles to control.

Gabriel straightens up. “Are you going to be sick?” Her hesitation in answering is enough for him to quickly grab a nearby wastebasket and tuck it between her legs, just in case.

Thankfully, the gagging subsides without incident. She’s finally breathing near normally again, if not a little raggedly. Gabriel picks up her glasses, pleased to find that they haven’t been broken or stained by blood. Nathalie tries to straighten up, reaching for them, but Gabriel gently pushes her back down. “Stay there for a minute and keep breathing. We don’t want you short of breath again.”

For once, she miraculously obeys him. Over the next minute, her breathing slows to normal. There is a small cough here and there, but it’s nothing like the intensity of earlier.

“Ugh,” she comments, and leaves it at that.

“That certainly seemed unpleasant,” he agrees.

“Sir, I’m —”

“—If the next word out of your mouth is ‘sorry,’ Nathalie, I’ll give you a reason to be,” he says, hoping to lighten the mood. But Nathalie doesn’t bite. She just hiccups, and shakes her head.

“Do you want to sit up now?” he asks, opting for a more gentle approach. Nathalie usually appreciates sarcasm and wit, but he suspects she’s too worn out for that at the moment.

“Yes, please.”

He helps her straighten up. She somehow looks pale and flushed at the same time, and there’s quite a bit of blood on her face.

“Stay there,” Gabriel instructs.

He grabs the box of tissues from her desk and sits back next to her. He begins to wipe her face, but she pulls away, eyes downcast. “Sir…”

“Let me help,” he murmurs. A crease forms in her brow, but she obediently stays put as he wipes at the blood. He can’t remove all of it, not with dry tissues, but at the very least, it’s no longer dripping from her chin.

Nathalie looks like she’d rather be swallowed up by the floor than be tended to, but the last thing that Gabriel wants is for her to overexert herself. “Will you be fine on your own for a moment?” he asks. 

“Yes.”

On second thought, though, he orders Duusu to stay with Nathalie, just in case anything should happen. He expects a black look in return, but Nathalie just stares emptily at her hands, not responding as Duusu comes to rest on her shoulder.

It’s unnerving, but he forces himself to leave the room. In the kitchen, he grabs a glass of water, as well as some wet washcloths to clean Nathalie up with. As he wrings out the washcloths, a terrible feeling wells up within him — something between horror and despair. It all but knocks the wind out of him, and for a moment, he thinks he can understand how Nathalie feels at each coughing fit.

“Master?” Nooroo asks, concerned. Gabriel just shakes his head, forcing himself to draw in air that has grown stale around him. He puts down the washcloth he’s holding, removes his glasses, and ducks his head into the sink, running cold water to splash his face with. It helps a little, though not by much.

“Master, are you okay?” Nooroo asks as he dries his face.

Gabriel closes his eyes and breathes in deep through his nose. “No,” he admits.

He turns away, making it clear that this is not an invitation for further conversation, and hurries back to Nathalie.

“Here,” he says, offering the glass of water to her. “Don’t drink too fast.”

She takes a few tentative sips before handing the glass back. He puts it on the table so he can finish cleaning the blood off her.

She’s looking a little better, though her eyes are quite red. Whether that’s from emotion or exertion, he’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to pry into her mental state to find out, not when she’s already had so much privacy stolen from her. He raises a washcloth to finish wiping her cheek. Once again, she looks distressed at him aiding her, but this time, she doesn’t fight it.

With the damp towels, he is able to clean her up fully. “Hands?” he asks. There’s a few spots of blood in one of her palms, but they are clean aside from that. He quickly wipes away the rest of the blood on her and moves to wiping the floor.

“Sir, it’s my mess. Please let me—”

“—No,” he cuts in. “You’re in no condition — in fact, I want you resting in bed now.” He abandons the washcloth on the floor. “Come.” He offers out his arm, which she reluctantly takes. She’s far too shaky as she stands, and Gabriel is quick to pick her up instead.

“Gabriel,” she scolds, but it’s a tired, halfhearted complaint. She can’t help but droop her head against his shoulder as he carries her upstairs.

Once again, he brings her to the guest bedroom. Once she’s settled in bed, he hovers uneasily. “What exactly happened?”

She shakes her head. “It was nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing,” he counters.

She looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “The coughing just came too fast. I couldn’t get a good breath in. That’s all.”

He takes note of the way she avoids his eyes. “You’re embarrassed,” he exclaims incredulously.

She doesn’t deny it. Her gaze floats down to consider her hands.

“Of all the things — I promise you’ll have no judgement from me. I am _ worried, _nothing else. Why in the world—?”

“Sir, you know I am self-sufficient. I don’t enjoy needing help.”

“Nobody does,” he scoffs. “Nathalie, what the miraculous has done to you — it’s magic beyond us. This has _ nothing _to do with your inherent level of strength.” He shakes his head. “What happened earlier, it concerns me, even if it doesn’t concern you. For my sake, please, stay here tonight. The last thing we need is something like this happening while you’re on the road.”

“Gabriel,” she groans into her hands. But he can see that there’s not as much fight in her as usual. “Fine. Just for tonight.”

“Good. Now lay down, and please, go to sleep.”

She wrinkles her nose at him, but obliges, lowering her head onto the pillows. She’s forgotten to remove her glasses, so he takes them off for her and sets them on the nightstand.

Even without the miraculous pinned to him, Gabriel can feel waves of shame still radiating off her. He stops in the doorway, and turns back to her, searching for something to put her mind at ease.

“I trust you know that you have helped me in my time of need far more than I have done for you,” he reminds her. “Sleep well,” he says, leaving before he can see her response.

He spends the next half hour or so cleaning up the atelier. Nathalie is in no condition to do it, and he doesn’t need the other staff seeing all the blood. Nooroo helps him as much as he can, thankfully in silence. Gabriel doesn’t think he can bear more interference from his kwami.

He finishes right on time. Just as he is disposing of the stained cloths, Adrien arrives back at the mansion. He stomps in with a stormcloud over him, amplifying Gabriel’s own sour mood.

“Bad day I take it?” Gabriel asks, trying his very best to be tolerant, despite the circumstances.

“Not great,” Adrien confirms, dumping his bag unceremoniously on the ground. “I’m beyond frustrated. There’s this girl at my school, and I’ve tried to be nice, I’ve _ tried _ to give her the benefit of the doubt, but she’s just terrible! Marinette caught her acting suspicious today and I just _ know _she’s about to do something to hurt someone’s feelings.” His shoulders take on a dejected slump. “I love school, but sometimes Lila makes it exhausting.”

“Lila?” Gabriel asks. “As in Lila Rossi?”

“The very same,” Adrien grumbles.

Gabriel files that information away for later. More and more, he thinks it would be in his best interests to keep Lila away from his son.

Adrien takes in a deep breath, and a miniscule smile appears on his face. “Well, at least I can look forward to having Marinette over tonight. Nothing can ruin that.”

Gabriel’s heart sinks. He knows Adrien has been looking forward to dinner with his friend, but there’s no way that they can have guests over when Nathalie is so weak. The last thing he needs is word of his assistant’s illness getting out.

“Actually, Adrien,” Gabriel says. “Something rather pressing came up, and it wouldn’t be a good time to have Miss Dupain-Cheng here. Once Nathalie is back from… her meetings, we can look into finding a new date.”

“But, Father!” Adrien protests. “It’s been in the calendar for almost two weeks! That’s not fair!”

“Adrien,” he says firmly. “That’s enough. I know you are disappointed, but there’s nothing to be done.”

Adrien glowers. “Well, if we can’t have her here, then at least let us go out to eat. We’ve both been looking forward to this; we don’t get a lot of time to hang out outside of school!”

It’s a reasonable enough request. However, he hesitates. Nathalie’s health scare today has shaken him. He wants his son close.

“I said no, Adrien. I won’t discuss this further.”

If it was possible for steam to pour out of one’s ears, it would be absolutely flooding from Adrien’s. “Yes, we will,” his son demands.

Gabriel’s eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”

“We will discuss this. I am tired of being told no all the time without a valid reason.”

Gabriel feels his own frustration start to build. “Why do you assume there is no valid reason?”

Adrien laughs, but it’s humorless. “If there is one, then tell me!”

Gabriel purses his lips. “It’s none of your business, Adrien. Now, stop behaving poorly, and sit down to eat.”

“No,” Adrien counters. “I am tired of listening to you.”

“Adrien—”

“Things have been awful here since Mom left. You can try to blame it on her absence, use her as your excuse, but that’s not the worst of it. It’s the way _ you’ve _changed that’s been the worst.” There’s fire flickering in his eyes, fire that boils Gabriel’s own anger. “I thought we were finally making progress. I guess not, but I’m done with the way things were. I’m not going back to you bossing me around and never even explaining why I can’t—”

“—That’s enough!” Gabriel roars. “You think you know everything, son, but you don’t even have a clue. I can see now that you’ve become rebellious and entitled.” He draws himself up. “Go to your room. You will stay there until it’s time to return for your afternoon classes.”

“So now you’re just going to imprison—?”

“—_ Go to your room,” _Gabriel snarls. “I am half inclined to pull you out of school as it is; don’t force my hand immediately.”

Adrien recoils as if he’s been slapped. He shakes his head. “You’re the worst father ever,” he says, a statement made less impactful by the waver in his voice and the tiny tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He books it up the stairs, taking two at a time, and slams his door with unnecessary force.

The comment stings a little, but it’s dulled by Gabriel’s own rage. Adrien thinks he knows the whole story, but he doesn’t. Gabriel has tried to be understanding of his son’s pain, but such blatant disrespect has him seething. It takes all his dignity to not stomp around himself as he crosses to sit at the table. He has the kitchen staff bring Adrien’s food up to him, as he does not expect nor want to see his son for this meal.

He barely has an appetite for his own lunch, and he makes a point to look away when Adrien finally storms out for his afternoon lessons. Anger radiates off Adrien in aggressive waves.

Gabriel finds himself wishing that actual, viable akuma victims had the same amount of pent up rage as his son.

He sits in front of a half-full plate of food for quite some time before the restlessness gets the best of him. He calls for it to be cleared away, and he retreats to his office where he begins to pace.

Emilie’s portrait, usually a calming aid for him, seems to tower over him judgmentally. “I’m trying,” Gabriel growls. Cold, unmoving eyes stare back.

He’s itching to create an akuma, and for the first time ever, his goal is not at the front of his mind, just the need to release some of this tension. His pacing does little to expel his frustration, no matter how many times he circles the room. There’s no work to be done, other than, of course, the constant need for more designs, but he’s certainly not up to creativity right now. Just passing by his tablet makes his skin crawl.

He stops. Adrien is out of the house, and Nathalie is safe in bed. There’s no reason why he can’t become Papillon now. It doesn’t need to be a part of some greater plan.

He takes the lift into his lair. Nooroo looks at him in confusion, but doesn’t say a word.

As Gabriel looks out on the Paris skyline, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves the miraculous. He pins it to his shirt, instantly feeling the flood of secondary emotions that come with the brooch. He’d forgotten how empty it felt to be just Gabriel Agreste, nothing more.

“Master?” Nooroo finally asks. “I thought you were going to stop being Papillon.”

Gabriel doesn’t answer. He lets the despair of the city wash over him.

“Nooroo, dark wings, rise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
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> 
> Welp, that didn't last long. Are you guys upset with human disaster Gabriel Agreste?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papillon makes a huge mistake.

🦋

The city is ripe with potential, and all the negative emotions emanating out are further amplified by Papillon’s own anger. It’s almost overwhelming. There are too many possibilities to choose from, none of which seem any more promising than usual. He breathes in deep, untangling his emotions from those spread across Paris. He needs a closer look.

He combs his mind’s eye over the city, being sure to only take in the feelings of a few people at a time. It’s an art he’s perfected at this point; he can quickly dismiss those whose feelings are too weak or do not have the potential to be a useful akuma.

Which, apparently, is most of the population today. There’s sadness and anger, but nothing remarkable. He finds the usual — broken hearts, lost jobs, bratty kids, and petty arguments. He growls low in his throat. He doesn’t understand how this amount of sorrow can come from such superficial sources, not when his own runs deep for something so much more meaningful.

In his search, he comes across Adrien. Papillon quickly moves to the next person before he can even register his son’s anger, tuning out all of Adrien’s energy. While he doesn’t think he could ever akumatize his own son, it’s best not to allow the temptation in the first place, not when he’s under the intoxicating power of Papillon and at the mercy of his own negative emotions.

Nevertheless, there are few promising options. He’s just about to phone it in, settling on a melodramatic, despondent lover, when he finally picks up on something interesting. Something unique.

It’s two girls, _ collège _students, a couple. There is shared indignation and anguish between them, a feeling that they are unified by, together, against some outside source of frustration. Even better, there is an object shared between them, some kind of anonymous note, he realizes, that has caused this pain.

They’ve both been akuma victims before. One is the former Princess Fragrance. The other is the former Reflekta. Neither were particularly useful on their own at the time, but together...

Papillon knows this is not an opportunity to be missed. Akumas comprised of two people, united in their cause, have been his most successful endeavors in the past. He immediately sends out a butterfly and begins to contrive how he can twist these feelings into a powerful monster.

However, as the butterfly nears its target, the feelings begin to fade. “No,” he groans. “What’s happening?” There’s warmth seeping into the targets’ cold fury. They’re being comforted by a fellow peer, and the feelings of resentment are fading fast. By the time his akuma is close enough to latch on, the former storm of emotion is just a blip on his radar, not worth pursuing at all.

He huffs out his frustration, considering his next move. He doesn’t recall the akuma yet. _ Collège _students are quite volatile. It’s possible that another student will reignite that fire, giving him a new opportunity to akumatize the pair.

The butterfly idly begins to move of its own accord, and Gabriel allows this, making sure it remains close. However, he’s surprised as it begins to gravitate towards _ Françoise Dupont_. There’s a feeling pulling it in. He can feel himself being drawn to the power of a new possibility, too.

Gabriel refocuses on the girls. They don’t seem to be falling victim to their hurt feelings again, and the magnetism from this new source is strong and irresistible. He allows the butterfly to wander to where it desires, corrupting a new victim.

Instantly, he is flooded with rage, woundedness, bitterness, and immense displeasure. He’s shocked that these feelings hadn’t called out to him to begin with in their strength, but it’s no matter; he’ll take this opportunity now.

The akuma is astonishingly fast and eager. “Dejinnerate,” Papillon greets, finding that the victim has already chosen their own name and is leaning towards certain powers. It doesn’t take long for Papillon to evaluate their mental state and make his decision. “You are tired of the world’s expectations of perfection from you. They all treat you like you only exist to please others, and you never get to take control of your own life. I’m giving you the power to grant their deepest desires… in a manner that will make them wish they had never asked for anything at all.

“In return, you will give me—”

_ “No.” _

Papillon stumbles, not expecting his akuma to refuse his request. “Yes, Dijinnerate, you _ will _bring me the miraculous of—”

_ “No,” _ Dejinnerate says. _ “I won’t.” _ He laughs, _ “You have no idea what a thorn you’ve been in my side. Hurting my friends, akumatizing my classmates, disrupting every facet of our lives. You better hope I don’t run into you, Papillon, or I’ll be corrupting your wishes, too.” _

Papillon is about to give a retort, but he’s pulled away by the whirring of the lift behind him. “Nathalie,” he scolds as his assistant shuffles forwards. She seems steady enough on her feet, but he’s concerned by the fog of exhaustion in her eyes.

“Gabriel?” she exclaims, suddenly sharp. “What are you doing? I thought you weren’t going to—” She cuts off, gears turning. “You’ve akumatized someone,” she realizes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Duusu, spread my—”

“—No,” he stops her. “Don’t. It’s not worth it. I’m just… blowing off some steam,” he finishes lamely.

She lets out a breath and rubs her face, becoming smaller. “Oh.”

He takes her gently by the shoulder. “You should go back to bed.”

She slips out of his hold, moving to look out the window of the lair. “What’s the akuma?”

“Dejinnerate,” he says reluctantly, hoping that the akuma won’t pique her interest too much. “He takes your deepest desire and twists it, like a malevolent jinn would. It becomes a trainwreck instead of a true wish. However, this particular akuma does not seem too keen on obeying my—”

_ “Adrien!” _

He stops, zeroing on his son’s name as heard through the akuma’s ears.

“What is it?” Nathalie asks. “Papillon?”

He shushes her. “Someone just said Adrien’s name.”

Her eyes grow large and worried, but she stays silent, watching him.

“Dejinnerate, what is happening?” he asks. “Did you attack Adrien Agreste?”

The akuma on the other end doesn’t answer him, remaining focused on the students around him. Papillon can’t see them, but he’s aware that Dejinnerate is surrounded by several classmates, people who are close to him emotionally. He can’t sense Adrien among them, however. In fact, he can’t sense Adrien at all.

_ “Adrien?” _ a girl whispers. _ “Is that you?” _

_ “Not Adrien anymore,” _ the akuma says, and Papillon’s blood runs cold. _ “It’s Dejinnerate, now.” _

“No,” Papillon gasps, as he comes to the realization of why he can no longer sense his son. “No!”

“Gabriel?” Nathalie rushes to him, and for once, she is the one to steady him as his knees go weak.

_ “Please, Adrien, this isn’t you…” _

He can’t allow this to go on for any longer. He focuses his power and attempts to withdraw his akuma.

What he doesn’t expect is for Dejinnerate — _ Adrien _ — to refuse to relinquish his hold. _ “I don’t think so,” _ his son hisses, pulling back on the akuma with a tug that creates a sharp pain in Papillon’s chest. _ “I’m just getting started.” _

It feels like trying to pull packing tape apart from itself. He manages to grab onto a corner of the power, and he feels it give a little, but Dejinnerate is providing him plenty of resistance.

“That’s not for you to decide,” Papillon grits, yanking back on the power of the akuma.

_ “I make all the decisions now. You will get _out of my head!” Dejinnerate screams, and the power flies out from Papillon’s fingers, lost to the akuma for good. The recoil blasts him out of Nathalie’s grasp and back several feet before he falls, seeing only black.

It takes him several moments to regain his bearings. He opens his eyes to Nathalie hovering over him, frantically calling his name.

He groans. “I’m unharmed.” He may have a few bruises, including a lump on the back of his head, but no more than that. As he blinks the stars out of his eyes, he remembers why he is on the ground in the first place. “No,” he exclaims, jumping to his feet. The connection to Dejinnerate has been lost. “No, no, no!”

“Sir, what’s happening?” Nathalie demands. “Is Adrien okay?”

He shakes his head, eyes unfocused as he tries, in vain, to reestablish the connection. Horror and shame heat up his face. “Adrien is the akuma,” he whispers.

For a moment, Nathalie can only gape at him, her expressions and emotions shifting too rapidly to catch. They settle on fury. “What?” she growls.

“He’s the akuma. I tried to take it back, but he severed the connection.”

Her jaw snaps shut. “This better be a joke. A bad, humourless joke made in poor taste.”

He can only shake his head grimly in response.

There’s a strangled sound in Nathalie’s throat, like a sob that got stuck halfway. “You akumatized your own son?” she fumes. She lunges forward, grabbing him by the lapels and yanking him down to her level. “How _ could _you?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he defends, but his case sounds weak, even to him. It’s hard to deliver with any conviction with Nathalie’s eyes boring directly into his with so much intensity.

“I have supported you at every turn,” she reminds him in a dangerous whisper. “I have stood by and even _ helped _ you akumatize people who were vulnerable, who were children, even a _ goddamn baby, _but this? This is too far.” Her eyes are wet with unshed tears, and Papillon suspects that it’s pure outrage that keeps them from flooding over. Inapporpriately, he notes that he’s never seen this level of fury from her before, at least not directed towards him, and it’s a bit thrilling, despite the circumstances.

And terrifying, too.

“Nathalie, please—”

“It’s Adrien, Gabriel! Adrien! I can’t believe that you would—” She halts abruptly, not having the words to describe what she’s feeling. She screams angrily, pulling away from him and tearing at her hair, leaving her glasses askew and her bun loose.

“Nathalie…”

She spins back towards him and slaps him across the face. The sound of it echoes across his lair, and his cheek stings, even through the mask. Nathalie breathes heavily, looking ashamed as she lowers her hand. She shakes her head and presses her fingers to her eyes, up and under her glasses. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It was deserved,” he admits, humbling himself. “I know you care a great deal for Adrien; it was a reasonable reaction.” He approaches her slowly, making sure that she will allow him to. “Please know that this was a mistake. I would never knowingly akumatize my own son.” He tentatively lays a hand on Nathalie’s shoulder, and although she tenses under his touch, she doesn’t pull away.

“How did this happen?” she breathes shakily, keeping an impressive hold on the anger that still runs through her.

“He wasn’t my original target. The girls I meant to akumatize calmed down, and the butterfly went rogue. I didn’t even realize until…”

Nathalie’s eyes soften. “Okay. I shouldn’t have assumed — okay. We have to fix this.” She pulls away, a determined look in her eye that he doesn’t like. “Duusu, spread my feathers.”

He tries to stop her, but she ignores him this time, her transformation washing over her efficiently without any of the usual flair.

“No,” he says. “Detransform. Now.”

She shakes her head. “It’s Adrien.”

“I know. That’s why _ I _ am going. _ You, _on the other hand, are not even nearly recovered from your last time as Mayura.”

“I’m not sitting out when Adrien is akumatized! Goddamnit, Gabriel, he’s my s—”

She cuts herself off, and Papillon is shocked, his mind filling in “son” into the silence that follows.

“—My responsibility, too,” she amends after far too long. “I’m going.”

Papillon steps in front of her, blocking her path. “You are not. This is my mess, and I will clean it up.”

She narrows her eyes at him, their black outline making her appear downright sinister. “That’s juvenile reasoning, and you know it. We need all hands on deck.”

Papillon clenches his jaw, annoyed at Mayura for delaying him and attempting to put herself in danger once more. “Then let me put it this way: I am already worried about my son. I can’t afford to be worried for you, too.” He grabs her by the shoulders. _ “Stay.” _

She frowns at him, but lets him go. He’s barely out the window, however, before a periwinkle mask falls over his eyes.

_ “Papillon, I am Mayura. I—” _

He breaks the connection immediately. A blue feather spirals from his cane, down to the ground.

He turns back to face her, fuming.

“Take it,” she pleads. “I need to help.”

He stops, realizing that Mayura is determined to aid him, even if it kills her. 

He grabs her roughly, and she yelps, clawing and kicking at him as he drags her over to the lift. 

“You will stay here, you will detransform, and you will _ not _create a sentimonster,” he utters lowly. “I have one task for you, and that’s to not die.” He sends her down to his office before she can get in a single word of protest. He prays that it will be enough.

He finally leaps out into the city. Along his short route to _ Françoise Dupont, _ he begins to note the effects of the akuma. There are plenty of people arguing and yelling at one another, likely due to relationship wishes gone wrong. There are also strange, fantastic sights to see, like an entire jungle growing out of a window, people literally drowning in money, and an actual tyrannosaurus rex lumbering down _ Boulevard de Courcelles. _It reminds him a bit of Sandboy.

But unlike Sandboy, the nightmares are real.

He’s unlucky enough to crash into his own personal nightmare, Ladybug. As he runs across a rooftop, the spotted heroine leaps up from the edge, colliding with him. They both land flat on their asses, which he supposes would be comical if not for the gravity of the situation.

“Papillon!” she squeaks, floundering up to stand. Her eyes darken, and without warning, she lunges towards him.

“Wait,” he cries, jumping up to fend off her attacks. He’s unprepared, put instantly on the defense in his surprise. For once, the heroine’s eyes aren’t shining with justice; they’re tinged with vengeance. “You don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly,” she spits. “You want my miraculous, and you’re willing to destroy the city to get it, including an innocent boy who didn’t deserve any of this!”

So Ladybug knows Adrien and, apparently, has a soft spot for him. Typically, he’d file this information away for later use, but the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

Ladybug stops, regroups, draws back. She’s still on the offense, yoyo spinning threateningly, but she halts her attack. “Then what?”

“You may think I’m heartless, but I’m not. I want the miraculous, and only the miraculous. I have no intention to wreak havoc on Paris for no reason.”

“Get to the point,” she snarls, taking a step forward.

“I want to help take down the akuma,” he says, and her eyebrows shoot up. “He’s gone rogue; I don’t have control of him. He’s not after the miraculous, he just wants the city to burn.”

“Adrien,” she breathes. She shakes her head, forcing herself to harden again. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t,” he admits. “But know that if he defeats you, there’s no way to stop him. I can’t recall the akuma. I’m powerless against him.”

Ladybug studies him. She steps back, putting more distance between them, but her yoyo comes to rest.

“I don’t know,” she says hesitantly. He’s frustrated that she’s killing time, but all the same, he can’t blame her for her wariness, given their history. She takes another step back and flips open her yoyo, glancing up at him every couple of seconds. She presses a button. “Chat? Come on, where are you?”

“You haven’t been able to reach him yet?” Papillon asks, alarmed. It’s atypical for the team not to arrive within minutes of each other, and he’s not thrilled at the idea of them being short one when his son’s life is on the line. “The akuma’s been active for at least ten minutes.”

“Yeah, thanks for that, by the way,” she grumbles. She tries again. “Chat! Pick up!”

Papillon takes a step forward, but a glare from Ladybug stops him in his tracks.

“Give me a second,” she says. She brings her hands to her face and lets out a long, shuddering breath. “Okay, fine,” she agrees. “You can help. But there are three conditions.”

“Of course.”

“One: I take the lead. I tell you something, you do it. Two: Don’t get too close. Earring-grabbing distance is off-limits, along with anything even near to it.”

He nods, showing his understanding. “Yes, fine. And the third?”

“Answer this question honestly: where is Mayura? She’s never far behind you.”

“With any hope, not coming,” he replies.

Ladybug raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t comment, apparently finding this to be an acceptable answer. “Okay.” She checks her yoyo. “The last sighting of Dejinnerate was six blocks east. Let’s go.”

Papillon never thought he’d find himself bounding over rooftops with his nemesis, but that’s exactly what happens. For several minutes, he and Ladybug jump from building to building, dodging the strange creations of Dejinnerate.

“I have to admit, the name is actually clever,” Ladybug grits out. “The whole rebellious genie thing? The design, the concept, all of it. You must have been planning this one for a while.”

“Not at all,” Papillon responds, chuckling despite himself. The situation is far from ideal, but he can’t help but admire Adrien’s creativity. “He actually chose it all himself.”

If a dark laugh escapes from Ladybug, too, he pretends not to notice.

Before long, they arrive where Dejinnerate is supposed to be. There’s plenty of evidence that he’s been there, but no sign of the akuma himself. Ladybug and Papillon throw themselves flat onto the rooftop as a giant purple eagle swoops down over them, looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

Ladybug flips open the yoyo again as Papillon ensures the eagle’s trajectory remains pointed away from them. _ “Putain,” _she curses with a scowl.

“That’s not very heroic language.”

She flips him off as she continues to scroll through her device. Another dark chuckle escapes him. The young hero is full of surprises, and he is bemused to find that when they’re not on opposing sides, he quite likes her fiery disposition.

She’s beginning to look worried, however.

“What?” Papillon asks.

She shakes her head, snapping her yoyo shut. “No reported sightings since the last. I don’t know where he is.”

“He can’t have gotten far.”

“Hmm.” She stands, looking around thoughtfully. She points south. “I see more of his wishes this way. Let’s go, quietly though.”

They continue along, this time slower, with more trepidation. Papillon wonders whether they’re on the right path when the wishes seem to get thinner, but there is still a sign here and there to reassure them — foaming bubbles pouring out a third story window, and a whole herd of vicious, hissing cats gathered along one of the smaller _ ruelles. _

They halt in their tracks when there’s a clanking in the alley beneath them. Wordlessly, they look to each other in agreement and drop down.

It’s not Dejinnerate, unfortunately. “Mayura,” Papillon growls, hoisting her up from where she’s stumbled.

“Oh, great,” Ladybug laments. “She’s not supposed to be here.”

“I _ know,” _Papillon says.

“You said she wouldn’t be here,” Ladybug stresses. “Why the hell is your wife here?”

“I’m not his wife—”

“I told her to stay—”

“—Fine, whatever,” Ladybug interjects, cutting them both off. “We don’t have time for this. Listen, Mayura, stay away from the earrings and do what I say. Agreed?”

Mayura narrows her eyes into flat half-moons and nods.

“Good.”

“No, not good,” Papillon argues. “Go home. It’s too dangerous.”

Ladybug’s perplexion comes through as she asks, “How is it any more dangerous than — Papillon, look out!”

He barely has time to grab Mayura and yank her out of the way before a beam of dazzling, green light shoots past them.

Papillon is scared to face Dejinnerate and see Adrien within him. But what is more frightening, perhaps, is that when he turns around to see him for the first time, he recognizes very little of his son at all.

Mayura gasps beside him, affirming that he’s not the only one taken aback. Dejinnerate is green and sparkling, like an actual jinn might’ve been. He is bare chested from the waist up, his lower half trailing off in a smoky tail. He holds a shining golden lamp, surely the weapon that the beams were shot from. There is a dark expression on his face, far darker than what Papillon has seen from Adrien, even at his darkest moments, though his eyes themselves glow fluorescent green.

“Adrien,” Ladybug tries to reason with him. He only growls and shoots another beam of light that barely misses her. “Is the akuma in his lamp?” she guesses, stepping back.

“No,” Papillon instantly says. He’s not sure where his butterfly landed, but the lamp is just a weapon, nothing more. He scans Dejinnerate’s body, looking for anything that could belong to Adrien.

“The bracelet,” Mayura says after a moment. Papillon recognizes it; it’s a charm bracelet he’s seen his son wear before, though he doesn’t know where it came from. “Marinette gave it to him,” Mayura whispers in his ear before he has to ask.

“Why do you think it’s that?” Ladybug questions, dodging another attack. “We need to be sure.” Papillon is forced to pull Mayura aside once more as it ricochets towards them.

“It’s from his friend. His father forced him to cancel plans with her; that’s why he’s upset,” he explains out loud.

“How do you know that?” Dejinnerate demands.

Papillon narrows his eyes, taking a strong stance. “You may have broken my control over you, but I still know everything about you, Adrien Agreste.”

“My name is not Adrien!” Dejinnerate hollers, rushing towards him. The three super powered individuals draw their weapons and begin to fend him off.

They take turns blocking and reaching for his bracelet. The physical attacks are easier to defend against than his beam, but unfortunately, Dejinnerate is quick to realize that the ranged attack is a huge advantage for him. He leaps back and begins to shoot beams at them again.

Mayura, being the bad luck magnet that she is, seems to draw most of his fire, leaving Papillon to pull her out of the way each time.

“What are you doing?” Ladybug shrieks. “We’re losing ground.”

“Trust me,” Papillon grits, trying to find a way to warn the heroine without revealing Mayura’s condition, “you don’t want him to grant her wish.”

There’s only so long that they can keep it up. A beam of light sent straight between them forces the pair to jump apart from each other, and a follow-up attack heads right for Mayura.

Papillon dives for her, but it’s too late. A fraction of a second before he can reach her, the light hits. He collides into her, and they fall to the ground, tangled together.

They all freeze, and even Dejinnerate pauses to grin at them triumphantly. “This will be good,” he cackles. Papillon hates the way that the akuma stares at Mayura hungrily. There’s knowledge in his eyes, and Papillon fears what that entails.

Ladybug gasps, and her hands dart to her ears, causing her earrings to catch the sunlight. “They’re still there,” she breathes.

“Why wouldn’t they be?” Papillon can’t help but ask, pulling Mayura to her feet. His eyes dart back to her every few seconds, terrified to see her desire come true.

“I just… I thought she would want what you want,” Ladybug frowns. “The miraculous.”

Papillon frowns as well, looking Mayura over. Nothing has seemed to change.

Dejinnerate laughs, a frightful, chilling sound. “Oh, no, she has a deeper, darker desire. Don’t worry, it’ll sneak up on you when you least expect it.”

“Nathalie?” Papillon questions under his breath.

She shakes her head, eyes wide, and he can tell she’s working just as hard as he is to figure out what is coming for her.

Ladybug isn’t having it, though. “You both need to leave.” She stops Papillon before he can even begin to protest. “Yes, you do. Quick, before her wish manifests and makes things a hundred times worse.”

For some reason, this sends Dejinnerate into a hysterical fit of laughter.

“Get out of here,” Ladybug orders more insistently. Determination steels in her eyes. “I’m not going to let him down. I can handle it.”

Numbly, Papillon nods, grabs Mayura’s hand, and flees.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> My question for you (if you should choose to answer it): What do you think Nathalie's corrupted wish is going to be?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isn't the worst part the calm before the storm?

🦋

Mayura resists, but Papillon manages to pull her along.

“We can’t leave him,” she cries, trying to wrench her arm out of Papillon’s grip.

“We can’t let him get _ hurt,” _Papillon counters. “We have no clue what your wish will look like. Unless…?” He looks back at her, hoping she’s figured it out.

She shakes her head.

“In that case,” he continues, “it’s best to leave it to Ladybug.”

So, for a second time, they find themselves hoping that the spotted heroine succeeds, for Adrien’s sake. Mayura sniffles beside him, but she no longer tries to tug him back towards the fray.

Papillon can hear the faint cry of “Lucky Charm!” as they put distance between themselves and the battle, but he tries not to let it keep them. In fact, Mayura is fading, struggling to keep up, so he scoops her up and continues to run.

He doesn’t stop until, several minutes later, the sky lights up with the miraculous cure. Once that happens, he feels as though his own humanity returns to him with it, and he nearly collapses with emotion and exhaustion.

He doesn’t, for Mayura’s sake. It’s not until he’s brought them into an alley to detransform that he allows it all to truly hit him. He gasps, greedily taking in air as tears flow freely from his eyes.

“Gabriel?” Nathalie questions. She brings a hand to his face, her palm peachy and warm once more.

“It’s over,” he attempts to explain. “Adrien. He — he’s okay. He’s okay.”

Nathalie hesitates, her hands coming to rest awkwardly on his arms. After a moment, she surges forward, gathering him into a comforting hug.

He doesn’t know to say. Thank you? Sorry? None of it seems quite right, so he stays silent until he pulls away from her. He swipes at his eyes, annoyed at them for betraying him.

“The wish,” he remembers. “The cure won’t have worked,” he reminds her. “Did anything happen yet?”

“No,” she says, worry evident in her voice. She looks out into the main road, pushing aside that concern for later. “There’s nobody here. Let’s go.”

Nathalie takes the lead. There is still palpable tension between them. Some of it, he suspects, is still from his actions that caused Adrien to be akumatized. Some of it is the uncertainty of what Nathalie’s wish entails.

“Do you have any idea of what it could be?”

“No,” she replies tersely.

The remainder of their trip is carried out in silence. They don’t break until they’re past the gate, up the sidewalk, through the door, and in the lobby of the mansion.

Nathalie lets out a shuddering breath as the door finally closes behind them. There are questions hovering between them, for sure, and neither seems to know where to start.

“I’m about to call Adrien,” Gabriel informs her.

“Is that wise?” she asks. “He’s still angry with you, and he may find it odd that you’re calling right after—”

“I don’t care,” he insists. “I don’t care. I need to make sure he’s alright.” Nathalie raises a brow at him. Internally, he shrinks back from her pointed look. “I will wait several minutes, that’s all,” he compromises with a sigh. “What about you?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

She gives him another shrug. “For now, yes. A little weak, perhaps. In fact…” she says. She walks over to the stairs and braces herself against the railing. “Just in case,” she informs him.

“You should sit.” She ignores him. A more pressing matter resurfaces in his mind. “Dejinnerate hit you.”

“Thank you, I’d forgotten,” she says dryly.

“I’m serious, Nathalie,” Gabriel says, making his way towards her. “This is perhaps the worst akuma you could be hit with. What was your wish?”

“I don’t _ know.” _

“Think about it, please. What are your deepest desires? How could they be used against you?”

“I…” she shakes her head, at a total loss. “I don’t…” Suddenly, she sways, looking a bit green. “I think the effects of Mayura are hitting,” she warns.

Her grip on the railing thankfully slows her fall. It’s just enough time for Gabriel to close the rest of the distance between them and lift her. Her head falls back against his chest the second she’s in his arms.

_ “Merde,” _he whispers. He takes her into the atelier and lays her in her usual spot on the couch.

He doesn’t want to leave her, not when there are so many horrible possibilities of how her wish could manifest. However, he’s fairly certain she won’t be waking up for quite some time.

He looks her over once more. She’s pale, but that’s nothing new when it comes to her forays as Mayura. There’s nothing to suggest a wish gone wrong. 

Maybe, for once, they’ve gotten lucky. Maybe the cure worked after all, before whatever Nathalie’s desires were could be fully realized.

No, that’s a completely absurd thought.

Satisfied that, at the very least, Nathalie is not going to die on him immediately, Gabriel sits in the corner adjacent to her and checks his phone. It’s only been about five minutes since they arrived back at the mansion. He’d promised he’d wait to call Adrien, but his anxiety is eating at his willpower.

In a silent concession to Nathalie, who is unconscious anyway, he checks the news first to find out whether Adrien’s akumatization is, in fact, public information. It doesn’t take him long to find footage of Dejinnerate. As Gabriel scrolls through his feed, he finally finds what he’s looking for: Adrien’s name, the time he was akumatized, and the fact that he was saved by Ladybug and returned safely to school.

That’s good enough for him. He’d had to do a little bit of digging, but the information is out there, allowing a defense. If anything, he can even claim Nathalie was the one to come across it, since he’s not typically one to keep up on all the superhero news.

His heart is illogically racing in his chest as he hits Adrien’s name in his contact list. “Pick up,” he mutters as the phone rings and rings. The sequence ends after about eight rings, and Adrien’s voicemail message plays.

Gabriel hangs up and tries again. Once more, the phone rings through to voicemail.

He tries again. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four rings. Five rings. Six—

The sixth ring stops halfway through, followed by silence. For a second, Gabriel assumes that Adrien has dismissed the call, and he expects to be put through to voicemail once more.

But after a moment, Adrien’s voice comes through, stiff and tentative. “Father?”

“Adrien,” Gabriel breathes, beyond relieved. “Are you okay?” He’s met with more silence, which he supposes is fair, since it’s a broad question. “I saw—I heard what happened,” he clarifies.

“I’m… safe. I’m back at school,” he answers.

“Good. Good,” Gabriel says, rubbing his hand across his face, as if he could wipe off the tension that has accumulated there. “I’ll send your bodyguard to pick you up.”

“No. Don’t.”

“Adrien—”

“No. I don’t want to be home right now. I’m finishing my day at school. Goodbye—”

“Wait, Adrien!” he interjects. He can anticipate this is a battle he is not going to win, especially after this morning’s blow up. He lets out a long sigh. “Fine, you can stay for the remainder of your classes. But stay in touch. I want a text every hour.” He’s met by silence once more. “Okay?” he prompts.

Adrien hesitates. “Okay,” he says.

There’s a click, and the call is disconnected.

Gabriel lays his phone on the table and buries his head in his hands. The call had not gone as well as he’d hoped. On the other hand, it could have been much worse.

He raises his eyes above the tips of his fingers. His assistant is still lying on the couch, facing away from him. “Nathalie?” he murmurs, hoping that she’s on the brink of consciousness at this point.

She sleeps soundly on.

Nevertheless, he notices that she’s shivering, despite being deep in her slumber. He could pile blankets on her, but truly, he thinks she needs a more proper rest than what the couch can offer.

With care, he slips an arm under her shoulders and another under her knees. Even as he lifts her, she doesn’t stir, falling limply against his chest. She sleeps through as he carries her up to her usual bedroom.

He lays her out on the bed, removing her shoes, glasses, and the miraculous before tucking her in. He considers taking it, putting it in his pocket, but Duusu looks at him with pleading eyes, and he relents, laying it on the nightstand instead. Besides, he doesn’t want to see Nathalie distraught if she wakes up to find it gone.

She’s still shivering, even under the covers, so he goes to find a few extra blankets to bundle her in. After he arranges them, he reaches out to touch her cheek, finding it cool.

“Is she going to be okay?” Duusu whimpers.

Gabriel sighs. “I was hoping to ask you the same question.” He gestures towards Nathalie with a nod, and the kwami flies over to nestle against in the crook of her neck.

He takes up vigil by her bedside. His inaction is making him restless, but there’s nothing he can do to speed up Nathalie’s recovery or Adrien’s return home, and he knows picking up his design work will be a futile attempt. Instead, he watches keenly over Nathalie, looking out for any change in her condition.

The first text from Adrien indicates that an hour has passed. It’s just one word, “Math,” but those four letters do surprisingly a lot to calm Gabriel’s nerves, allowing the next hour to pass more easily.

The second text says, “Science class, still not akumatized.” Part of Gabriel is annoyed by the snark, though the other part of him is a bit amused. His son’s sense of humor is quite sharp, and he suspects this is one area in which Adrien takes after him more than Emilie.

Nathalie thankfully begins to stir before a third text is received.

“Nathalie,” he says as she groans, stretching out. She lets out a small gasp as her eyes fly open. “It’s okay,” he reassures, quickly grabbing her glasses so she can regain her bearings.

“What happened?” she mumbles, blinking around at the room.

“You collapsed downstairs. Do you remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.”

He gives her a hand to help her sit up. She takes her hair down and brushes it out.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

She pauses, hair halfway up in a new bun. “Better, actually. I never got the chance to make a sentimonster, so it didn’t take as much out of me as usual.” This is followed by a series of coughs that makes Gabriel’s eyebrows raise in doubt, but she waves off his concern. “I’m fine,” she says. “It’s not as bad as earlier today. The nap helped significantly.”

He nods, declining to comment as she finishes fixing her hair. 

“Thank you,” she says softly. “For bringing me up here.”

“You looked like you needed a proper rest. I’m glad to hear it’s done you well.”

She pushes the covers off and moves to stand, but Gabriel stops her.

“I know you’re feeling better, but you should still take it slow. After all, we still don’t know…”

Nathalie stiffens. “Of course.”

Gabriel has gathered by this point that the subject is uncomfortable for Nathalie, but he has to ask, for the sake of her own safety. He sits beside her on the bed, hoping that coming down to her level will reassure her, but if anything, she only seems more tense.

“I have to ask,” he says apologetically. “Do you know what your wish was?”

“No. I know that may seem hard to believe, but I don’t.” She clasps her hands. “I swear, Gabriel, I’m not keeping it from you. I truly don’t know.”

“I know, Nathalie. I believe you,” he says. “That’s why I’m asking. I’m hoping that together we can figure it out. You must have some idea of possibilities at least?”

“I…” She hesitates, brushing back her hair. “I had my initial thoughts, but they’ve been ruled out since.”

He raises an eyebrow in question.

She explains, “They would have been apparent immediately. I’m not sure what kind of wish could still be hiding from us at this point.”

He nods, absentmindedly plucking a piece of fuzz from her blazer. “Ah, yes. The more I thought about it, I was surprised that it didn’t seem to affect Ladybug’s earrings. Of course, I realize now that’s a self-centered notion.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d assume that your deepest, darkest wish would not be to accomplish _ my _goal. Surely there must be something that you want for yourself more.”

“Oh.” She looks down at her hands. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “Honestly, I was just as shocked that nothing happened with the miraculous.”

Gabriel furrows his brow, turning to face her better. “But there must be something that you desire for yourself. Something that has nothing to do with any of this.”

She shakes her head again. “There really isn’t. I’m content, sir.” She averts her eyes. “I like my job; I like you and Adrien. I want you to be happy, and the way to achieve that is through the miraculous.”

For the first time, Gabriel gets the inkling that Nathalie is not telling him the whole truth.

“Nathalie, I know that can’t be true. I won’t judge you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not. It’s just—” She looks upwards. “I suppose there are distant dreams of… a husband. A family, even. Nothing that I need in my life right now, but in the far future.”

She’s tinged slightly pink. Gabriel is not sure of why she’s embarrassed when he is looking to heal his own family. Their wishes are not so far apart. Still, Nathalie refuses to meet his eyes.

“But if it was any of those things,” she continues, dropping her shoulders, “we would know by now.” She almost looks disappointed to remark, “There’d be a horrible lovesick man... clawing at the front door, I suppose, or, I don’t know, six children trailing behind me. But there aren’t. There isn’t anything.”

“Six?”

She graces him with a small smile. “Well, that would bring it into nightmare territory.”

Out of precaution, Gabriel rises from the bed and peers out the window. As far as he can see, everything is peaceful. No demon husband, no hoards of children. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he agrees. “What else?”

“I don’t know,” Nathalie says. “That’s it.”

“Nathalie, please, that can’t possibly be all,” he says, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.

“It is,” she insists, glaring back at him.

“What else—?”

“Nothing!”

“Nathalie.”

“Gabriel, please,” she begs, face pained. “Stop.”

He can’t. Not with so much still unknown. “But you must—”

“I want what you want!” she exclaims, pushing herself up tall and squaring her shoulders. “That’s what we’ve been working for; that’s all I’ve _ ever _ wanted. I want the miraculous. I want you to get your wish. I want Emilie to come back and heal what’s broken. I want you to be happy. That’s _ it, _ Gabriel. That’s _ all.” _

He’s stuck for a moment, gaping at her. A second later, he’s turning on his heel and rushing to his underground repository, heart racing in his chest.

It’s the missing piece. Of course Nathalie’s wish wouldn’t be for the miraculouses. That might’ve been _ his _wish, but Nathalie is far more direct. No, her wish would get to the root of the problem.

Emilie.

There are a million and one ways this wish can be corrupted. Gabriel sees images of a broken Emilie, of an evil Emilie, of an Emilie who no longer cares for her family. An Emilie turned into nothing more than a reanimated corpse.

An Emile who would do the unthinkable, something that Gabriel thought only _ he _was a bad enough parent to do — hurt Adrien.

He runs a little faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> I don't have a discussion question for you guys yet. I'll try to think of one, or maybe you guys can suggest a good one!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel tries to fix what's broken, but not everything can be healed within a day...

🦋

The ride down to the underground chamber is the longest and darkest it’s ever been. For once, Gabriel wishes for more light as he takes the long, lonely ride down to the place where his wife _ hopefully _still rests. He’s never been one to scare easily, even as a child, but he’s fairly certain that in this moment, it wouldn’t take much to set him off.

The lift gives an uneasy lurch as it meets the bottom. Has it always done that? He’s not sure, but he’s hyper aware of it now.

The first lights come on as he steps out, just barely illuminating the path in front of him. It’s unfortunate that there isn’t a simple switch, rather than the motion-detected mechanism that Gabriel can only set off by walking the full length of the chamber. He braces himself for a terrible sight with each set of lights that clicks on, but there’s nothing there, just the empty pathway, lit by dim golden light.

He finally reaches the spot where the lights on Emilie are activated. They flick on without warning, and his heart jumps in his chest.

His wife still rests undisturbed.

He inches forward, afraid that a sudden move will cause her to spring up at him, but no such thing happens. The suspense builds and builds until he practically feels ill, but there’s no change to Emilie. She lies against the pillows, her lovely face stuck still in a permanently peaceful expression. Gabriel slowly reaches out, aware that he’s breaking all horror movie rules, and he grasps her hand.

Nothing. It’s cool and unresponsive to his touch, just like always.

For the first time ever, he’s relieved that there’s no change in her condition. He quickly pulls his hand away, unable to shake the chills that have built up in his spine.

At that moment, those feelings are drowned out by a sensation akin to icy water being dumped over his head. He realizes, now that he’s not so fixated on Emilie, that he is not alone down here. He’s certain of it. There is someone behind him. He can feel the energy of another person in the room, pressing heavily on his back.

With a sharp breath, he whirls around, intending to get it over with like ripping off a bandaid. Sure enough, at the other end of the chamber, stands a woman, bathed in shadows as she walks towards him.

His first thought is Emilie. Yes, her body is currently behind him, but there are other ways that the wish could bring her back. The figure he sees may be a double. Or it may not be corporeal at all; it could be her spirit, separated from her body.

But then the figure coughs a very familiar cough, the image in his mind becomes familiar, and his fear is replaced by concern.

“Nathalie.” He rushes towards her, and she takes a few shambling steps towards him, coughing all the while as she steps into the light, revealing herself.

“Gabriel, there was no need—” Nathalie says, breaking off to cough some more into the crook of her arm.

When Gabriel finally reaches her, he doesn’t hesitate to pull her into a firm embrace. It takes a few seconds for his arms to stop shaking.

“Why did you follow me here?” he murmurs into her shoulder. “You should be resting.”

“I was confused. You ran out of the room so fast; I didn’t know what to think.” She reaches a careful hand up to his face, her big blue eyes searching his. “Is everything okay? Why did you rush down here like that?”

“I…” It takes him a moment to find the words. “You said you’d wish for Emilie back, and I panicked.” He reaches up and places his own hand over hers. “I thought she’d possibly be brought back, but wrong.”

Nathalie glances toward Emilie. She takes a hesitant step forward, peeking around him. “Is she…?”

“The same as before,” Gabriel answers. “We’re fortunate in that regard, depending on how you look at it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She hasn’t been revived into a horrible monster. But that means we’re back to square one on figuring out this wish.”

“Hmm.” Nathalie taps her lips. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Gabriel raises his brows in question.

“Think about it,” Nathalie says, gripping his arm. “There’s a reason that you’ve used your powers to lure out Ladybug and Chat Noir, rather than using an akuma to fix it directly. The Butterfly miraculous can only do so much. Perhaps there are some things that an akuma can’t achieve.”

“Like reversing deep magical wounds,” Gabriel suggests.

“Exactly.”

He looks back at Emilie. She still hasn’t moved. “You might be right, Nathalie,” he says. “Though I’ll still worry that something will go wrong until we know for sure.”

She smiles understandingly. “I know. But try not to dwell on it too much.” Her smile drops, and she puts new distance between them, as if she has suddenly remembered why they’re here in the first place. “There are other things we need to talk about. Regarding today.”

“Yes,” he says, heart sinking. He’s made a huge mistake today, hurting Adrien and endangering Nathalie. He knows Nathalie won’t let him off the hook with the former, though there is plenty of guilt eating at him over what has happened to _ both _of them.

But for all Nathalie tries to be stern with him, her gaze eventually softens. “Later, though. Adrien will be returning soon. And it’s more important that you answer to him than to me.”

The silence presses down. “I really am sorry,” he says to break it, reaching out to her.

She steps back, avoiding his touch this time. “I know,” she says. Her eyes betray a weariness he hasn’t seen from her before, and it sends another rush of pain to tug at his heartstrings. She gestures to the lift with a nod of her head. “Go. You need to be there when he gets home.”

Gabriel nods stiffly and gets into the lift. He watches Nathalie until she disappears from view. Not once does she meet his eyes.

Anxious feelings writhe in his gut as he waits for Adrien to return, only growing worse when Nathalie joins him a few minutes later, unbearably stiff, stoic, and _ cold _at his side. He’s half inclined to snap at her to leave if she insists on being so standoffish, but truly, he reminds himself, he has no right to be upset at her. Her reaction is a fully rational one, considering the mess he’s gotten them into.

Still, the frigidness is really starting to grate on him when, finally, the front door opens. Adrien steps through, looking nervous and upset.

“Adrien,” Gabriel chokes out. He begins to walk towards him, but Adrien gives him a deer in the headlights look that stops him in his tracks.

“I know,” Adrien stammers. “I’m sorry.”

Gabriel opens his mouth to respond, but shock stops his words as he processes what his son has just said, followed by confusion.

“I should have controlled my emotions better, not let myself be akumatized.” He sighs, drawing in on himself. “What will it be? Are you going to take my phone?” Gabriel can only furrow his brow, completely lost. “Schedule more photoshoots?” Adrien’s voice grows smaller. “Pull me out of school?”

Gabriel is hit by the wave of Adrien’s emotions — a mix of shame and dread, leaving him thoroughly floored. He is dismayed that on top of everything else, Adrien feels as if he should apologize for his own akumatization, an event that was, in every single way, Gabriel’s own fault.

“No,” he finally manages to say. “No, I’m not punishing you.” He takes slow steps to close the remaining distance between them. “Adrien,” he says softly. He drops to his knees and pulls his son into a tight hug.

“Father?” Adrien squeaks a few seconds later.

“Do not apologize,” Gabriel says. “Especially not for something that is my fault.”

He pulls away to look at Adrien, hands planted on his shoulders. Adrien has tears running down his face, and Gabriel’s own eyes grow wet and stinging once more.

“Okay,” Adrien whispers.

“I was terrified about what happened today; I still am. I love you, son,” Gabriel says, heart aching as he recalls how many opportunities he’s missed to say it.

“I love you, too,” Adrien says, initiating a new hug. Gabriel inhales deeply, thanking his lucky stars that he still has a son to hold at all.

“I’m… sorry,” Gabriel says. The words are hard for him to say, especially as a man who prides himself on being right most of the time, but they’re necessary here. He’s done the unspeakable, and if he can’t fully admit what he’s done, he should at least atone for it as best as he can.

He believes he knows the first steps to make it right.

When Adrien pulls away, swiping at his eyes, Gabriel stands and turns to Nathalie. Despite herself, she looks somewhat moved, her previous impassive expression turned soft.

“Nathalie, I’d like to have a word alone with my son, if that’s okay.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Of course, sir.” She goes to Adrien, placing a hand on his shoulder warmly. “I’m glad you’re not hurt Adrien. We were both worried.”

“Thanks, Nathalie,” Adrien says quietly. After a second, he reaches out and pulls her into a hug too. “Love you,” he mumbles into her shoulder. For some reason, this makes Gabriel’s heart skip a beat. He knows that there is some connection between Nathalie and his son, but to hear it spoken aloud stirs up surprise in him, mixed with something else he can’t trace.

Nathalie’s eyes go wide, as well. She puts a gentle hand onto the top of Adrien’s head. “I love you too, Adrien.” She pulls back, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you later. Your father wants some time with you.”

Once Nathalie has retreated to the atelier and closed the doors behind her, Gabriel turns back to Adrien. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

Adrien scratches his head. “Okay…”

It’s the understatement of the year, of course, but there’s a lot that Gabriel cannot say. It’s time to say what he can. It won’t make up for everything he’s done, but it’ll hopefully be a start. “You were right when you accused me of not giving you a good reason as to why you couldn’t have your friend over tonight. I did have one, but I declined to share it with you.”

“Why?” Adrien asks. “What is it?”

“You know Nathalie has dizzy spells sometimes.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a while since she had one!” Adrien says. He stiffens. “Oh, no. It’s happening again?”

“Not as frequently, but yes, she had a bad one earlier today,” Gabriel informs him. Adrien’s shoulders slump. “You’re upset.”

“Of course. I’m worried for her.”

“That’s entirely what I was hoping to protect you from, though I see now that it’s done more harm than good.” Adrien looks away dolefully, and Gabriel is moved. “I’m worried, too,” he admits, and Adrien meets his eyes again, surprised. “She’s a valuable part of this family, and I don’t want her ill any more than you do.” His cheeks warm, and he finds himself glad that there’s a door between Nathalie and them.

“I understand,” Adrien says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I wish you had just told me, but I understand why you didn’t.”

Gabriel nods and continues, “I’ll admit not allowing you to go out instead was a result of paranoia.” Adrien looks at him questioningly. “With Nathalie ill, I wanted you close. I was concerned for her, and having you stay safe at home was a way to help my peace of mind.”

“Oh,” Adrien says, eyes widening. “I didn’t realize… I didn’t even think about it.”

“To no fault of yours,” Gabriel reminds him. “You didn’t have all the information, and I apologize for the distress it provoked in you.” He sighs. “I hate that this happened, and even moreso, I hate that I was the cause of it.”

Adrien nods and bites his lip nervously. “And Nathalie?”

“She’s feeling better.” Guilt chews at him despite the fact that it’s not technically a lie. “She rested, and it helped, though she’s still not fully well.” He grimaces. “Speaking of which…” He takes in a deep breath. “If you want to go out with Miss Dupain-Cheng tonight, you are allowed.”

“Father…”

“I was wrong to deny that to you, and I won’t do it again. However, I am _ asking _that you don’t tonight.” He forces himself to relax his posture, to be friendlier and less imposing as he humbles himself. “We can reschedule at the earliest convenience; I will even allow you to cancel a lesson for it. But for tonight, I’d like you to be here. I could have lost you today, and I won’t pretend it has not shaken me.”

“It’s my choice?”

“Yes.”

Adrien nods. “Okay, I’ll stay tonight. I think I’ve had enough excitement today anyway.”

Gabriel puts a hand on his shoulder and draws him close. “Thank you.” He quirks a smile at Adrien. “Now, I’m sure you want a bit of space before you have to be in my company for the rest of the evening, and there are things I have to discuss with Nathalie before then. How about you go relax and clean up before dinner?”

Adrien nods and begins to walk up the stairs. He pauses halfway up. “By the way, father?” he asks.

“Yes?”

“It’s true that what you did today hurt me, but you shouldn’t put all the blame on yourself. The only one who’s fully at fault is Papillon.”

The words are meant to be reassuring, but Gabriel feels as if he’s been stabbed through the heart.

His limbs are frozen, locked up as his heart flutters painfully in his chest. When he finally finds himself able to move again, he retreats into the atelier and closes the door behind him.

Nathalie is sitting at her desk, looking slightly tired, but not nearly as bad as he’s seen her in recent days. She pauses in her typing and looks up at him calmly as he walks in. “Well? How did it go?”

“I’m giving up Papillon,” he blurts. It’s not what he planned to say, but as he speaks it, he knows it’s the right choice.

It’s enough to make Nathalie stop in her task entirely, turning her chair towards him. “W-what? Really?”

“Really,” he answers, kneeling in front of her. “And I don’t mean another trial period. I’m through entirely.”

“What made you change your mind?” She scrunches her eyes closed, shaking her head. “Dumb question. After what happened to Adrien today, it makes absolute sense.”

“Adrien is the biggest part of it, yes, but it’s also because of you.”

“Me?” Nathalie sputters. If the mug on her desk was in her hand, he’d expect to see coffee spraying out of her nose.

“It’s too much, Nathalie.” He grasps her hand. “The Peacock miraculous is making you ill. And beyond that, you got hit today with some kind of spell that has yet to rear its head.” He self-consciously adjusts his glasses. “You mean a lot to Adrien. And you mean a lot to me. The risk to your life isn’t worth it.”

Nathalie pulls her hand from his. She cups her palms over her eyes and breathes shakily.

His hand falls to her knee instead. “Are you upset at my decision?” he asks gently.

“No. Yes.” She lowers her hands and shakes her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t expect you to decide something so soon. I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“I have to,” he says. “It’s hurting you, it’s hurting Adrien, and it’s hurting Adrien that it’s hurting you. It can’t go on any longer.”

“I just didn’t think…” she trails off, shifting in her seat.

“What? That I cared about your wellbeing? You are part of this family, and you’re the only friend I have. Of course I don’t want to lose you. I hope you don’t think I’m that cruel, Nathalie.”

“No!” she exclaims. “Of course not. All I meant is that —” She glances up at the portrait of Emilie. “Adrien needs a mother.”

“Adrien also needs to not lose the only maternal figure he has left,” Gabriel retorts, stepping into Nathalie’s view of the portrait. Her jaw drops. “He loves you; you heard it yourself. It would break him if Emilie’s fate befell you as well.”

Nathalie nods solemnly. Surprisingly, after a few moments, her serious demeanor turns to laughter.

“What could you possibly find amusing about this situation?” Gabriel asks with faux exasperation.

This only leads her to laugh harder. “I had a full lecture and a half planned for you. This takes some of the wind out of my sails.”

He chuckles. “I suppose it would. You’re still welcome to berate me, however. I fully deserve it.”

The laughter is quickly stopped by a cough. And then another. Gabriel’s amusement dissolves into concern as Nathalie hunches over, a series of coughs pouring out of her. He scoots over to her side and wraps an arm around to rub her back soothingly.

“How bad is it?” he asks quietly once the coughing subsides. The mood is noticeably dimmer.

“Not as bad as it sounds,” she assures him, though she presses a hand to her chest all the same. 

“Please,” he insists, “tell me.”

She sighs, turning her eyes to him with more seriousness. “It’s the same as usual.”

“Which is?” He sighs, clarifying, “You’ve never exactly been up front about your symptoms with me.”

She swallows, focusing on the corner of her desk. “My throat hurts. My chest hurts. I’m cold, I’m nauseous, I’m dizzy, my head aches, my _ body _aches…” She looks back to him tentatively. “And I’m tired. I’m exhausted, Gabriel. Bone-weary.”

He shakes his head, unable to believe that he’s been so oblivious to her pain. “Well, it’s over now. I won’t subject you to that ever again. You can finally heal.”

Nathalie’s hand jumps back to her chest, this time fingering her brooch. Her eyes skirt to over her shoulder, where Duusu and Nooroo linger, and Gabriel’s eyes follow.

Duusu is the one to ask, “Does this mean we don’t get to be your kwamis anymore?” Her lip quivers and tears bead up in her eyes. Nooroo looks conflicted, which is a surprise to Gabriel. Gabriel would think that the kwami would be happy that the miraculous was no longer going to be misused, but perhaps he legitimately feels attached to Gabriel and Nathalie, despite their questionable choices.

“I see no reason for that,” Gabriel decides. “Unless you want to go back into the miraculous?”

“No, Master.”

“Nooo, I want to stay with Miss Nathalie!”

“Then you will,” Gabriel decides. “I’m not inclined to send you back into the miraculouses if you’d rather be out here.”

Duusu cheers loudly, and Nooroo even spares a smile.

A dark sigh from Nathalie draws Gabriel back to her. She grips her head. “Headache,” she explains.

“I’ll get you something for the pain.” He stops. “Oh.”

“What is it?”

A concerning thought brews in his mind. “You said that you’re feeling better than usual, correct?”

She smiles. “Don’t worry about me. I know it sounds bad, but it’s really not as terrible as it’s been. I’m not in too much pain, and I’m in no danger of passing out again.”

Gabriel rubs his face. “It does worry me, for a different reason.” Nathalie cocks her head at him. He explains, “It’s odd that you’re feeling so much better after the akuma attack. Don’t you think?”

She frowns. “I suppose… Oh.” Her eyes widen. “I think I know where you’re going with this.”

He nods solemnly. “Is there any possibility the wish Dejinnerate granted you was related to your health?”

She thinks long and hard, staring at the top button of his vest as she works through the problem. “Yes… It’s not what my first assumption would have been, but it’s entirely possible.” She looks back up into his eyes with alarm. “But how will it go bad?”

Gabriel scowls. “I suppose we won’t know until it happens. But it could be that your current symptoms are alleviated, only for new ones to take their place.” He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is worse than I thought.”

“I’ll be okay,” Nathalie insists. “We’ve dealt with worse.”

“Have we?” Gabriel challenges. He makes up his mind. “Nathalie,” he says, shaking his head, “I know I’ve brought this up briefly in the past, back after you created the Ladybug sentimonster, but I’m urging — no — _ begging _you to reconsider now: move in here for a while. Please.”

“Gabriel,” she groans, but he notices she doesn’t immediately decline as she did in the past.

“It wouldn’t be permanent,” he says, rushing to make another argument before Nathalie can talk herself out of it. “Just until we know for sure what the effects of this wish are. I would feel much better knowing that you’re not alone if an emergency happens.”

Nathalie bites her lip, glancing out the window. “Won’t that create bad press? You know the tabloids will be absolutely ravenous over this.”

“We’ll figure it out. There are a thousand and one good excuses,” he says. “We can say that it’s due to a big project coming up. Or that your apartment flooded.” Nathalie gives him an uncertain look. “I’ll think of something better than that. I’ll handle it.”

Her eyes soften. “If you’re really that concerned… fine. I’ll stay. What will you say to Adrien, though? He’s bound to wonder.”

“He knows you’ve been ill. I’ll tell him the truth, or as much of it as I can. Your health is suffering and I want to make sure you’re not alone if something were to happen. Adrien is old enough to understand why discretion would be necessary.” He pauses. “I have one more request.”

She slumps back with a sigh and gives him a tired smile. “Yes?”

“Is there a chance I could convince you to dine with Adrien and me tonight? It’ll give us a chance to explain.”

She hesitates. “Are you sure you want me to intrude? I wouldn’t blame you for wanting one-on-one time with him.”

“I’m sure. He’s concerned about you too. I think this will help to put his mind at ease.”

She sits back, crossing her arms. “Alright, I don’t see why not,” she agrees lightly, her voice colored with fondness.

Not long after, they sit at the table to eat. Gabriel takes his seat at the head of the table, as usual, and Nathalie beside him. As the kitchen staff set the table, Nathalie’s closeness juxtaposes how far away Adrien’s place is, something he’s never put much thought towards before.

He doesn’t like it.

He catches one of the staff by the arm, interrupting the process. “I’d like Adrien’s plate here tonight.” He gestures to the seat on his right hand side, directly across from Nathalie.

When Adrien descends from upstairs and sees the new arrangement of his seat and of Nathalie’s place at the table, he instantly brightens. He shoots Gabriel a grin as he scoots himself up to the table.

As Gabriel looks around at their new placement, he can feel a shift in the air around him. Something has changed significantly.

He hopes it’s for the better.

  
  


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Do you think Gabriel and Nathalie are getting closer to uncovering what Dejinnerate did?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare clarifies matters for Gabriel and leads him to a huge decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a trigger warning for this chapter with a major spoiler. Please scroll down to the end note to view it.

🦋

Early on a quiet Saturday morning, Gabriel wakes up in a cold sweat.

It’s been about three weeks since his actions led to Adrien being accidentally akumatized, and he continues to be punished for it. Adrien himself thankfully seems happier at his new freedom since then, but that’s the only good to come out of the ordeal.

Gabriel and Nathalie’s guess about her wish had been disproven pretty quickly. Her condition has remained about the same as before the attack, which is not encouraging, for multiple reasons. For a while, they had thought that Nathalie’s health would be the thing that Dejinnerate affected, but in the past few days, they’ve come to terms with the fact that if that was to be the change, it would have happened by now. They’re back to speculating, desperately trying to guess what horrors await them. But Gabriel also worries over Nathalie’s condition in general, unrelated to Dejinnerate. Despite not having used the miraculous for weeks, her improvement is miniscule, if there is even any at all. He is concerned that she’ll begin to decline again. 

But Gabriel, despite not having been hit at all, is dealing with his own personal horrors. Ever since that night, he has been unable to shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. Most of his anxiety is shockingly tied to Emilie.

He’s never thought of his wife as anything other than lovely, beautiful, and kind. But ever since Dejinnerate planted the first seed of doubt in his mind, he’s been paranoid that she could come back wrong. He’s made far more frequent trips down to his repository to check on her state lately. He knows that if Nathalie had truly wished for Emilie to return, she would have by now, but for some reason, he’s still bothered by the thought.

His fears begin to manifest into nightmares, and he sees monstrous versions of Emilie. He begins to wonder why he hadn’t approached his goal with more trepidation before. There are so many ways in which waking her up could go wrong, even with the power of the Ladybug and Chat miraculouses, but he’d hardly even considered them before.

Tonight, he’s just awoken from a particularly upsetting nightmare. It had started with a zombified Emilie — pale and cold and showing none of the qualities that he had loved her for. He’d tried to reason with her, plead with her, but she had no emotion to give to him. And then, something new had happened. Nathalie had appeared, and without hesitation, Emilie had grabbed her around the neck and choked the life out of her before Gabriel could stop her. She had turned her dull, dead eyes to him, tossing Nathalie aside, and that’s when he had woken up with a voiceless scream.

Full minutes later, as he stares up at a blackened ceiling, his heart is still thundering in his chest. He has no idea of what his subconscious is trying to tell him, but he does know that he needs the nightmares to stop. Facing his own fears is one thing, but having to watch Nathalie pay the price make him ill. 

He groans and pushes himself out of bed, recognizing that he’s too worked up to return to sleep right away. He turns on his bedroom light, pulls on his slippers, and pads out into the hall.

He wanders down the staircase towards the kitchen, figuring that a cup of tea might help calm his nerves. He’s surprised to find the light already on.

“Adrien?” he calls gently. He knows his son often sneaks down for midnight snacks, even if he’s never acknowledged this to Adrien directly. However, it’s Nathalie who is leaning up against the counter, holding a glass of water. He notices that her hair is wet and her eyes are red with sleeplessness.

There’s a bloom of relief and affection in his chest. His nightmare may not have been real, but the reassurance is nice.

“Sorry,” she whispers, once she notices him. “Did I wake you?”

“Not at all,” he responds. “And if you had, I’d thank you for it. I was not sleeping restfully.”

She nods, a small scowl dancing across her features. “Neither was I.” She doesn’t seem inclined to tell him more.

He turns away from her to gather what he needs to make some tea. He’s still curious about why Nathalie is also awake at this hour.

“I had bad dreams,” he admits, hoping his own confession will sway her to open up herself. “I’ve been having a lot lately. About Emilie.” He grabs a mug from the cupboard and turns back towards her. “Do you want a cup?”

She squints at him. “I can’t see what you’re making, Gabriel. I’m blind as a bat without my glasses.”

He smiles softly. “Chamomile tea.”

She shrugs. “Might as well. Thank you.” A droplet of water falls from her hair to slide down the front of her blue silk pajama top.

“Do you usually take showers at three in the morning?” he asks, turning back to his task.

Nathalie groans. “Definitely not. I woke up coughing and couldn’t stop. The coughing turned to gagging. The gagging turned to... getting sick into my hair before I could pull it back. Now I’m just trying to rehydrate and get back to sleep.”

It’s strange to hear her talk so openly about it, even if he’s glad she’s being honest about her health. Ever since she picked up the Peacock miraculous to begin with, she’s done her best to leave the room when she’s feeling any manner of ill, never even coughing in his presence if it can be helped (though it often can’t). He’s heard her coughing and retching in the bathroom many times beyond when an attack sneaks up on her at work, but in all these months, she has never gone as far as to vomit in front of him, or even admit to it directly.

That doesn’t mean he’s not aware of it.

“We should try to stop the coughing; I’m getting concerned. For months now, it’s been causing you to become ill, even to lose your breath.”

To his surprise, she laughs at him. “You’ve been more than concerned for a while. You have the tendency to hover.” She hums, sobering. “We’ve tried every traditional cure there is. There’s nothing to be done against the miraculous, other than to wait.”

“At the very least, you should make sure to get enough rest. You can take a few days off, anytime.”

“I know. I don’t want to,” she says simply.

He doesn’t have a good response for that, other than to nod and continue in his task. The next few minutes pass in silence, save for a few spare coughs from Nathalie here and there. Gabriel finishes preparing their tea, finally sits next to Nathalie at the counter, and places a mug in front of each of them.

They sit in comfortable silence, waiting for their tea to cool to a drinkable temperature. He notices Nathalie is regarding him curiously. “What?” he asks.

“You look tired,” she answers. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and her face instantly reddens. “I’m sorry, sir, that was inappropriate. I didn’t mean—”

“I am.”

She freezes, her pupils flickering rapidly in her wide eyes as she takes him in. The blush fades from her face.

“I am tired, Nathalie. More than just physically.”

“You don’t need to be. It’s over, sir,” she says quietly.

“Is it?”

Her brow furrows.

“The public are wondering about Papillon,” he vents. “Why he’s hiding. What his next move is. Ladybug and Chat Noir are still searching. Adrien and I may be healing our relationship, but it’s hard to do with all the secrets between us.  _ You  _ are still unwell. And Emilie is still comatose  _ right beneath our feet,  _ even though I’m never going to get the miraculouses to—”

Oh. That’s the root of it. 

Of course. There’s no way for it to be over, not truly, as long as Emilie is still on life support. The reason he’d done that in the first place was because he always thought he’d bring her back.

By keeping her on it, he’s just delaying the choice he’s already made.

“Sir?” She shakes his shoulder. “Gabriel.”

“I haven’t let Emilie go,” he realizes, finally sharing out loud what he’s discovered. “Not just figuratively, but literally. How can I hope to move forward if she’s still…?” He can’t bring himself to say the word  _ alive. _

Nathalie, for her part, looks like she’s been slapped across the face, though he can’t imagine why she should look so distraught. “Does that mean…?” Her eyes dart down to his brooch, discreetly pinned to his pajamas in the place of his top button. “Are you going back to be being Papillon?”

“No. Never,” he says quickly. He won’t make the same mistakes again. Being Papillon puts his whole family at risk; the guilt of what he did to Adrien is enough. “And because of that… I think it’s time to let Emilie rest. It’s wrong to… to…”

A warm hand shoots out to grab his own. He blinks down at it unexpectedly. Nathalie’s fingers squeeze his comfortingly, grounding him in reality.

“That’s a big step,” she says. She looks at him sympathetically, but calmly, passing no judgement. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

He wants to say yes, but he can’t. “I’ll never be sure. But I think it’s best. It’s what’s kindest to her, isn’t it?”

He’s really not certain that it is. So much has changed since Emilie fell into her sleep, and he’d never had a backup plan. This wasn’t the course of action they’d agreed on, and he’s not sure what Emilie would want now.

Hopefully Nathalie can provide some reassurance.

She takes her time to answer deliberately. “I think so. If I were in her place, I wouldn’t want my life prolonged anymore. I wouldn’t want to suffer like that.”

Gabriel drops his head, nodding slightly. He feels numb. “Then, yes. It’s for the best.” The words taste like clay on his tongue, but they drop out of his mouth anyway.

She gives his hand another squeeze. “Whenever you’re ready, let me know. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“As soon as you can.” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain as he realizes that Emilie will truly be  _ dead  _ after this, no chance of return. “Let’s not prolong this any further. She deserves that much.”

He opens his eyes to see her looking at him with wide, shiny eyes of her own. “Okay,” she says softly, letting go of his hand. “I can probably get things in place by Tuesday.”

He nods, rising from his seat. “Good. Good,” he says.

It doesn’t  _ feel  _ good.

Nathalie, true to her word, informs him on Monday afternoon that everything is prepared, if he still wants to go through with it. He tells her yes.

He hopes she doesn’t ask again. He’s not sure if he’d have the strength to reaffirm his choice.

But she doesn’t. On Tuesday morning, after Adrien has left for school, she gives him a nod, and he knows it’s time.

He saves the project he’s working on and looks at her expectantly. Her eyebrows raise in surprise as she glances at him.

“Do you want me there with you? It’s a private moment. I didn’t think…”

“Yes. Please,” he begs. “I can’t do it alone.” His own voice shocks him, quiet and broken, but it’s all that he can manage. Nathalie does a double take, looking at him with equal astonishment.

Her intake of air is audible. She rushes to him and takes his hand, and it’s only then that he realizes he’s been shaking this whole time.

“Okay,” she says, and leaves it at that. Her other hand comes on top of their joined ones, and she hugs them to her chest in a comforting manner.

Gabriel takes a deep breath and squeezes back. He leads the way to the lift, and she follows.

The lift isn’t quite built for two, but he needs Nathalie there to stop him from turning back around and fleeing, tail between his legs, even if he’d do anything else before admitting that out loud. He luckily never has to ask, as she reads his emotions and wordlessly presses herself into his chest, allowing the lift to carry both of them down.

Throughout their whole journey down, and then their walk to the other end of the chamber, Nathalie doesn’t let go, and neither does he. He’s thankful to have a hand to hold in this stressful moment.

When they get to Emilie, he freezes. He’s not sure exactly what to do. Certainly, nothing in his life has prepared him for this moment.

“Do you want to… say goodbye?” Nathalie suggests tentatively. He can tell she’s searching for the most tactful words, but there’s no way she can say it that won’t break his heart.

Gabriel nods, finally letting go of Nathalie’s hand to approach his wife. Emilie is as still as ever, locked into a sleep that is soon to be eternal. He takes her hand in his, and it is cold, unlike the other hand that was there moments ago.

“Emilie.” He has no idea what to say. How can he even excuse what he’s about to do?

“I’m sorry, my love,” he begins. “I never wanted this to happen. And for what it’s worth, this is the last thing I want to do.

“I’ve spent over a year of trying, almost two. And for half that time, Nathalie has been trying, too. Some days, that feels absurdly short, like no time at all. Others, it feels like an eternity.

“I made a promise to you that I would bring you back. And now, I’m breaking that promise to you.” He looks up, no longer able to keep his eyes on her face as he speaks. “Nothing pains me more, but this can’t go on.

“Because you and I made another promise.” He lowers his gaze back to her, now determined. “Our  _ first  _ and most important promise: to protect Adrien and keep him happy. For a long time now, I’ve been breaking our promise to our son to fulfill my second promise, my promise to you. And I can’t do that any longer.

“I said I’d get you back at any cost, but this cost is too high. I hope you understand that. I hope you’d agree with me, for Adrien’s sake.”

He closes his eyes as grief washes over him, and his tears spill over. “I wish he had gotten the chance to say goodbye,” he whispers. “He misses you dearly, and will continue to do so.

“But I can’t be Papillon anymore. And if that’s the case, then keeping you would be selfish. I won’t condemn you to a long, cold, lonely life down here.”

He fights against his tears, bringing her hand to his lips. “So, I’m letting you go. Goodbye, my dear. I hope we meet again.” He kisses her knuckles, lips brushing against the metal of her wedding ring. He gingerly places her hand back at her side and takes a step back.

He stills, trying to gather his courage. He would much rather have Nathalie do this part, or even hold his hand while he does it, but it would be an unfair burden to put on her, or anyone for that matter. He knows she would do it, too, which is all the more reason he cannot request it of her. He can ask many things of Nathalie, but not this. This is his task alone.

He takes a deep breath. Before he can talk himself out of it, he reaches forward and turns off the machine keeping Emilie alive.

He returns to Nathalie’s side, and she wordlessly grabs his hand once more. He notices tracks of tears on her own face, but says nothing of it. Together, they watch in stifling silence as the green bars disappear one by one before going completely dark, indicating that Emilie has passed on.

The last light going out rips a sob out of his chest. And then another. Before long, his lungs are burning, and he falls to his knees, no longer able to bear his own weight.

His wife is dead, truly dead. He is a widower.

The first thing he feels in inexplicable relief. It’s a sudden rush through his body as he acknowledges that this whole, terrible fight can finally be put behind him. There’s no more wanting, no more waiting. It’s over.

The second emotion that comes over him is guilt. How can he be relieved at the death of his beautiful wife, his son’s mother? He should be ashamed for thinking so selfishly.

And the third rush of emotion is despair. This has been his driving force for so long. He has nothing left, nothing. He is alone. He is entirely —

A pair of arms wrap around him. Nathalie, despite her small frame, manages to surround him in a safe embrace, finding every empty, vulnerable space in him and filling it. “I know,” she murmurs in his ear as he cries. “I know.

Her cheek presses against his forehead, also wet. For some reason, this just sends him into deeper hysterics. The fact that even Nathalie is so deeply touched as to be moved to tears, something that he’s never seen before, makes it all the more real.

“I can’t,” he shudders. He is unable to articulate exactly what it is that he cannot do, but he feels an overwhelming sense of paralysis. He has no idea how to move on.

“You  _ can,” _ she insists. “You absolutely can. Gabriel, look at me.” He does, pain welling up in him again as he takes in her wet eyes. “What you just did took an incredible amount of strength. And you know in your heart it was the right thing.” She leans in and presses a chaste kiss to his forehead. “You will make it through this. For Adrien’s sake, if nothing else. And eventually, you will heal.”

He has no response for her, other than more tears. With great patience, she holds him for countless minutes, giving him her shoulder to cry on until he finally dries up.

He can’t look at the body of his wife, not without breaking down again, so he turns his head away from her. “Thank you, by the way, for taking care of the arrangements. It’s so far from your job—”

“Mayura isn’t in my job description either. This was the least I could do.” She gives him a soft, sympathetic smile. “I knew it would be hard on you. I couldn’t let you do it alone.”

“It’s all settled? Discreetly?”

“Yes,” she promises. “Quiet burial down here tomorrow, no questions asked. They’ve been told she was secretly receiving hospice care at home, and they have been paid handsomely for their discretion. If you want to be here and need some company, I’ll come with you again.”

“No,” he answers. “I think that’s one more thing than I can manage. I’ve said my goodbyes.” He takes a deep breath, looking up at the light. “Let’s go back up.”

They ascend back to the main floor, hand in hand. To Gabriel, it feels like they’re leaving a whole world behind them.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: minor character death.
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How do you feel about Gabriel letting Emilie go?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything gets worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving!

_Brush my teeth,_

_Fix my head,_

_Go to bed._

_Picturing you by my side,_

_I just cannot seem to get you out of my head._

— Stela Cole, _Throwing Up Butterflies _🦋

* * *

Gabriel tries his best to face the world after Emilie’s death, but he doesn’t have it in him. For the next few weeks, he finds himself in a deep fog, unable to claw his way out. He’s aware that this may come off as distant to Adrien, which he desperately doesn’t want, so he tries to distract him with looser rules and later curfews. It seems to work most of the time. His son seems happy, if not a little confused.

But if he’s not happy, Gabriel isn’t sure that he’s present enough to be aware of it.

He spends most of his time now looking through old photos and videos of he and Emilie together. He watches her movie more times than he can count. Unfortunately, this is the one time he can’t share his grief with Adrien. It would be catastrophic for his son to find out, so he shoulders it alone.

He realizes that he’s likely surly and unpleasant to work with, but Nathalie is ever-patient with him, even with her own struggles. He’s vaguely aware that her situation is only getting worse, and he wishes he could bring himself to be a better support for her. She leaves the room far more often now, usually returning with a bloodied tissue that she clearly can’t care enough to hide if even Gabriel is noticing it in this state. She’s always tired, and always cold. More often than not, he can find her wrapped in a blanket. She falls asleep at her desk an alarming amount, and she always feels bad about it, apologizing profusely when she wakes up, which he waves off.

His own job performance is lacking. He’s certainly not going to be on her case about her own, especially considering that she is ill and is still managing somehow to keep up with all her work.

Things trudge on like this for several weeks. It’s a slow, depressing routine to fall into, but he doesn’t have the energy to manage anything else. He’s in a total haze of uncaring. It’s the only thing that shields him from the pain.

But finally, at the end of the third week, he’s startled back to awareness.

It starts with a bad day. Nathalie is unwell throughout it, mostly tired and dizzy, and practically falling asleep, and Gabriel is grumpy and unsociable. He finally sends her “home” early, unable to watch her head drop to her desk for a sixth time in the middle of writing an email.

He and Nathalie have kept their miraculouses, even though they no longer use them. It’s calming to have Nooroo at his side, and he can tell that Duusu is an equal comfort for Nathalie. For the most part, he no longer uses the miraculous’s abilities, at least not intentionally. Every now and then, the brooch picks up on something in a closer proximity, but it’s easy for him to block it out.

That night, however, shortly after dinner, his miraculous lights up with a strong light. Before he can even question it, a huge, horrible emotion washes over him — a mix of panic, shame, fear, and sorrow. He is floored, wondering where it could be coming from to hit him so hard, when he realizes it’s from within his own house.

It’s Nathalie.

He bolts out of his room and down the hall to hers, heart thundering. He’s the most aware he’s been in weeks, details suddenly jumping at him, bold and crisp. All he can think is that something terrible has happened. She’s fallen, she’s hurt herself, she’s dying —

He practically collides with the door, instantly knocking frantically. “Nathalie.” He knocks again. “Nathalie!” When she doesn’t answer, he tries to turn the doorknob, but finds it locked. He takes a breath and prepares to break the door down, if he must.

There’s a click, and the door opens before he can cause any damage. “G-gabriel.” Nathalie stands in the doorframe, looking slightly shellshocked. Her hair is down, and she’s tightly wrapped in a thick robe. “What is it?”

“I— you—” He looks over his shoulder, aware that Adrien is home and probably still awake. “Can I come in?”

She has a sharp intake of breath. “Um.” She closes her eyes, shaking her head just once. “Of course.” She opens the door wider for him to step through before closing it behind her. “What?”

“I felt you through the miraculous. Not on purpose,” he jumps to say, as her eyes go wide as saucers. “Only briefly. Nathalie, it was so strong I couldn’t even block it out.”

The first thing he notices, now that he’s really looking, is that Nathalie’s demeanor doesn’t match at all what he felt moments ago from the brooch. She’s standing stiffly with her arms crossed, looking mildly alarmed, but not even near to the state of hysteria he’d expected. However, Duusu is hovering weepily at her shoulder, proving that  _ something  _ had happened.

“Duusu?” he questions, as Nathalie flounders.

“I don’t know,” the kwami sniffles. “It didn’t seem like anything was wrong. She was just getting ready for bed, and all of the sudden, she almost collapsed. She was grabbing the counter for dear life!”

“In that case, you need to sit,” he says, reaching out to guide her to her bed.

Nathalie flinches back. “No,” she says roughly. “No, I’m fine now. It was nothing.”

“It was most certainly not nothing,” he growls. “Nathalie, I have not felt anything from this miraculous in over a week. Anything at all. Your emotions nearly knocked me over. What happened?”

She’s stubbornly silent.

He sighs and turns to Duusu. “What led up to this? Where was she?”

“In the bathroom,” the kwami chirps. “She was just taking down her hair, and then all of the sudden she almost fell down!”

“I got scared,” Nathalie cuts in. She closes her eyes, inhaling sharply. “I — I was just lost in thought, and I felt dizzy, and then everything hit me at once. The fact that we’re not Papillon and Mayura anymore. That Emilie is… That I’m not getting better. I’m worse.”

He offers his arms, open wide to comfort her, but once again, she steps back from him.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m okay. I just need some sleep.”

He nods uncomfortably, arms coming to rest at his sides. “My apologies for invading your space. And… for putting such a burden on your shoulders. I’m sure it hasn’t made anything easier.”

“You have nothing to feel guilty for,” she says delicately, reaching out to touch his arm. Still, he feels as if there is an unusual distance between them. “I know it’s been hard for you, and for good reason.” She smiles at him, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She opens the door for him. “Thank you for checking on me.”

He stops on the other side, looking her over one last time. “Will you tell me if anything is wrong?”

Her eyes flicker over his. “Yes.”

With that, she shuts the door.

Gabriel glances down at Nooroo, hidden in the pocket of his shirt. “Did that seem… odd?”

“I don’t know, Master,” he whispers back. “From what I understand, she’s stressed. It’s no surprise with everything that’s changed.”

Gabriel nods. “In that case, we’ll respect her wishes and not pry. But I’ll be keeping a close eye on her.”

Over the next couple of days, there is definitely a change in Nathalie. While it’s true that Gabriel hasn’t been very present over the past few weeks, he notices that Nathalie seems unusually anxious, keeping herself so busy that she almost seems overwhelmed. And yet, she also seems distracted, forgetting things, and having trouble finishing tasks.

It makes sense when she hits a breaking point. On a quiet evening near the end of the week, right before the end of the work day, she comes to him with red eyes and shaking hands. “Sir, if it’s possible, I’d like to request a few days off.”

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, fiddling with his tablet in order to distract himself from his alarm at her demeanor. “Anything I should be aware of?”

“I just need to take care of some things at home. And rest.”

_ The day I rest willingly is the day you should call the morgue. _

“No!” he bites, nearly dropping his tablet. It takes him a few moments to remember where he is. Nathalie stares at him with wide, tired eyes, looking like she’s about to cry.

He scolds himself for his foolishness. It’s a figure of speech, nothing more, and certainly no reason to deny his most valued employee a well-deserved break.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was just… thinking of something else. Of course you can.” Some of the tension seeps from her shoulders, but she still fiddles with the sleeve of her sweater. “Must you go to your apartment, however? You know I’d feel better if you stayed where we could look after you.”

She stiffens all over again. “I have to go.” She bites her lip before saying, “There are a few more things I want from my apartment, and while I’m there, I should clean up, pay bills... and…” she glances over to her desk. “It’s the only way I won’t be tempted to take my work home with me.”

It’s a compelling enough reason, one that he can’t find enough flaws in to deny her.

“Of course,” he says, shoving off his concern. “Very well. Have a pleasant rest, Nathalie.”

Within several minutes, she has gathered her things and slipped out, leaving the office feeling quite empty. Gabriel is glad that he at least has Nooroo to fill some of the hollowness of the room, far too large for one person alone.

He notices, however, that he hasn’t seen his kwami in a little while. He sets down his tablet and walks around, trying to locate where he has gone.

He is drawn in toward the center of the room by light giggling and discussion. He looks down into the lower level to find Nooroo and Duusu bouncing on the couch together.

“Master!” Nooroo exclaims, once he notices Gabriel’s presence. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to disturb you.”

That is not Gabriel’s concern, however. “Why is Duusu still here? Did Nathalie not take you with her?”

“Oh.” Duusu flies up and periscopes around the room. “No, she didn’t!”

“What —  _ why?”  _ Gabriel asks. “Did she say anything?”

Duusu shakes her head and shrugs.

Gabriel walks over to Nathalie’s desk, looking for anything that could clarify. Her desk is clear and neat, aside from the Peacock miraculous, laid right next to her computer.

Gabriel pulls out his phone and texts Nathalie.  **You left your miraculous ** — he backspaces, replacing the last word with “brooch” for the sake of discretion —  **Did you mean to do that?**

After a few seconds, he receives a response:  **Oh. No, I took it off just for a moment and must have left it behind. Keep it safe for me?**

He frowns, once again bothered by Nathalie’s request, but finding no reasonable objection to it, especially when he’d pleaded with her to take the miraculous off so many times before.  **Yes.** After all, he can’t exactly demand that she turn around and come back. Still, his nerves churn angrily, and continue to, for the rest of the day.

Nathalie returns three days later, not looking much better than before. If anything, Gabriel thinks she looks more exhausted and miserable than when she left.

“Nathalie,” he says, pulling her aside quietly on the afternoon of her return, “how was your break? Do you feel better?”

“No,” she says, and her hands instantly fly to her mouth to stop the word too late. “I mean yes. I mean… The rest helped, sir,” she clarifies, shoulders drooping. “It’s just not a cure-all.”

He frowns. “If you need more time off—”

“I don’t,” she declines. “I think rest has done all it can do. I need to get back to work.”

“Wait,” he says. He takes the Peacock miraculous out of his pocket and places it gently in her hand. “Don’t forget it again.”

“Thank you,” she says, pinning it to the front of her thick wool sweater with slight difficulty. “I won’t.”

She goes back to her desk, stopping to cough violently before she can take her seat. She grabs the edge of her desk to steady herself. Gabriel rushes over and places a comforting hand on her back, stroking it across the navy fabric of her sweater.

He always feels so useless in moments like these. There’s nothing he can actually do to help other than hope his presence is more of a reassurance than it is an annoyance.

Nathalie doubles over further, struggling to control her coughs. “Maybe you should sit,” Gabriel suggests. He helps her into her desk chair. “Can you breathe?”

She nods, and he allows himself to relax slightly. He kneels in front of her and waits for the coughing to subside.

The fit leaves her face bloodied. “Are you okay?” he asks, as he grabs a tissue from her desk for her.

She wipes her face. “You already know the answer.”

A chill runs over him, and he stiffens. “Ah.” He drops his head, not knowing what to say.

“I’m going to go clean up,” she announces, pushing past him in a hurry. She stumbles and grabs the doorframe, taking a moment to steady herself before continuing on her trajectory.

“Duusu, go with her,” Gabriel orders, just as Nathalie is leaving the room. “Keep an eye on her.”

“Yes, Mister Gabriel!” Duusu chirps, spiralling out after Nathalie.

Gabriel is beginning to understand why he’d been so averse to Nathalie leaving the Peacock miraculous behind. Having Duusu there in case of an emergency is one reason that he prefers her to have it with her. Soon after that, he discovers a second reason: Duusu is good for information.

It’s an unfortunately busy day that calls him away from the office quite a bit. As a result, he is not able to look over Nathalie and make sure that she’s alright, or get any more clues about her strange, sudden aloofness.

However, Duusu can. When Gabriel returns from a meeting near the end of the work day, he enters the office to find Duusu alone at Nathalie’s desk.

“Duusu,” he calls, waving the kwami over. If Nathalie is out, he wants to take advantage of the situation.

“What is it?” she asks once she is perched on his podium.

“How is Nathalie today? Does anything seem… off?”

Duusu’s face grows thoughtful. “Do you mean physically or emotionally?”

“Either. Both.”

“Hmm. Well, she’s cold a lot, now! And achy. And she said her head was pounding. But, oh, that was the case before, too.” Duusu’s expression grows sad. “I’m sorry, that’s not very useful.”

Gabriel waves the thought aside. “No, no, that helps, thank you.” He wonders if he can afford to raise the heat a little more. The sweat around his collar indicates that he can’t, but he may just ignore that detail if it can help Nathalie be more comfortable. “And her emotional state?”

Duusu droops. “She’s not her usual self. I think she’s mad at me.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case. She’s gone through a lot lately.” He adjusts his glasses. “Is there anything else?”

“She was really upset earlier, after you gave her the miraculous back. Well, after she was coughing. She wouldn’t talk to me.” The kwami droops. “She was trying not to cry.”

Gabriel nods, frowning. “That’s concerning. Tell me if anything else happens,” he dismisses, allowing Duusu to return to Nathalie’s desk.

Gabriel picks up his tablet and doodles mindlessly, distracted by his thoughts. Guilt weighs in his heart that Nathalie is distraught to the point of tears.

He’s beginning to think that she’s been hiding a lot from him for a very long time. She’s always been good at masking her pain, and it seems that her façade is breaking down. He can’t blame her for that. But he also isn’t sure what else he can do to help at this point. He sets his stylus down, thinking.

Well, at the very least, he decides, he can give her a bit more time to relax until he comes up with a better plan.

When Nathalie returns to the office a bit later with yet another bloodied tissue crumpled in her hand, Gabriel announces, “Nathalie, I’m finishing up early today. Anything else can wait until tomorrow.”

Nathalie starts. “But, sir, I’m still catching up with what I missed.” She scrambles to find a file, brow furrowing when she can’t locate it. “I still need to do the—”

“The check-ins with the junior designers?” Gabriel asks, holding up the missing folder. Nathalie sighs and takes it from him, brushing back her hair. “Already done.”

“You—?” She opens the file, jaw dropping. “You did it yourself? Sir, there was no need—”

“It was my pleasure. Now, go. Settle back in. I’m sure you still have some unpacking to do.”

Her lip trembles. “Yes, sir. I, uh—” she looks back to her desk, distracted. “I just have one more thing to do before I log out.”

He follows her to her desk, brows drawing together. “There shouldn’t be anything else that can’t be left for tomorrow.”

She looks at him, her hand hovering over her mouse. “It’s a personal matter.”

“Not if it’s on your work computer,” he argues, suddenly annoyed about whatever she is attempting to hide from him.

Nathalie purses her lips in a brief standoff with him. After a moment, she sighs and shakes her head. “You’re so stubborn.” She lowers herself into her desk chair, massaging her temples. “I was trying to be discreet about this, but if you really  _ must  _ know, I’ll tell you.” She hesitates, eyes flickering back and forth with thought as she tries to choose her words. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, sir, but… tomorrow is the one month anniversary of Madame Agreste’s passing.”

Gabriel falls back a step, caught off guard. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this. His heart pounds thunderously in his chest. Had it really been that long? Grief and guilt wash over him. He had completely forgotten.

“I didn’t want to say anything. You’ve seemed to be in better spirits over the past week, at least in the time I’ve been here, and I didn’t want to interrupt your healing process if you hadn’t thought of it or were choosing not to acknowledge it.” She pulls her bangs back, tucking them behind her ear. “But I thought if you  _ were  _ aware of it, you might like to leave some flowers for her tomorrow. I was about to order some.” She shrugs a shoulder, looking at him with concerned eyes. “I was only going to mention it if you brought it up first. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.” He still doesn’t move, finding himself utterly shocked. “Gabriel?” She stands and approaches him.

“Y-yes,” he manages to stutter. “I didn’t realize.” He finally releases, and his head drops shamefully as his body relaxes. “That was… very thoughtful of you, Nathalie. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“I understand,” she says, touching his arm lightly. Briefly. She steps back again, leaving his side. “I suppose as long as it’s no longer a secret, I might as well ask: would you like me to go ahead and order them for tomorrow?”

He squeezes his eyes shut and nods. “Yes. Please.”

“Okay,” she says softly, returning to her chair. Gabriel stands dumbly in place for a few moments before breaking out of his stupor and walking away.

As he leaves the office, he finds himself wishing he hadn’t pried. Turmoil fogs over his mind once more.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
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	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie asks Gabriel a concerning question, and it only goes downhill from there.

_Make it stop._

_I can't stop._

🦋

* * *

A night’s sleep helps to ease some of Gabriel’s guilt, but his heart is still heavy with sorrow when he awakens on the one month anniversary of Emilie’s death.

He does his best to put on a neutral face that morning, so as not to alarm Adrien. He struggles through breakfast, forcing a smile as Adrien sits down to eat. The second his son leaves for school, the mask falls entirely, and he can feel a scowl form on his face.

Nathalie is especially attentive and aware, bringing him his coffee as soon as he’s in the atelier, prepared just the way he usually likes it, though today he can’t tolerate its bitterness. Wordlessly, she brings him an extra packet of sugar once she sees his face, and his heart silently thanks her, even if he can’t bring his lips to do the same. She carries out all of the morning tasks a step ahead of him, making sure he never has to ask for anything. Her presence is quiet and comforting, exactly what he needs to ground himself on this difficult day.

At 10 AM, the doorbell rings. Nathalie leaves her desk and returns with a bouquet.

She freezes in the doorway, looking uncertain for the first time this morning. “Do you want to take them now, or…?”

He nods, opening his arms. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you want me to—?”

“Yes, I’d appreciate your presence if you don’t mind accompanying me.”

Her expression softens. “Not at all.”

They ride down together, the flowers carefully positioned between them. It’s quite a lovely bouquet — a mix of flawless white lilies and anemones with touches of delicate ferns, all tied together with a black ribbon with a soft pink trim. Nathalie has made an excellent choice. He knows that Emilie would have loved them.

They make their way across the large, empty space. Gabriel would likely come to a stop and find himself unable to continue if it weren’t for Nathalie, tugging him gently forward by the elbow.

Emilie’s grave is where the medical chamber that held her once was. The headstone is large, but simple, crafted from elegant blue granite. It’s perfect for her in every way, except in that the date of death on it is so much earlier than it should have been. The ground is still somewhat fresh, but sprouts of grass are beginning to come up, blending into the old undisturbed earth.

Gabriel approaches tentatively, and places the beautiful bouquet at the base of the headstone. He suddenly feels as if he cannot breathe, and a pressure builds in his head, causing the room to spin. It feels surreal, being down here like this, in the place that he visited his wife so often when she was still breathing. He grabs Nathalie’s arm for support, and she steadies him, as reliable and sturdy as stone.

It’s a very different energy this time. When they had taken Emilie off life support, the air had been heavy with deep sorrow. Now, the atmosphere is lighter, but horribly stagnant. Gabriel feels as if the air is holding on tightly to all the ghosts of this room, locking them away in the vaulted ceiling above their heads, ready to come crashing down. It makes the air around them thin.

He knows Nathalie can feel it too. She stands very stiffly beside him, breathing shallowly. Minutes stretch on with them gazing at the grave in this manner. Gabriel’s mind is blank. He knows he should be feeling something more as he stands here, but all he can do is note how strange the circumstances feel to him as he stares at the tombstone.

And then something odd happens.

Nathalie’s breathing becomes shallower and shallower until she’s practically hiccupping. Gabriel turns his head to her and is shocked to find that she’s barely holding back tears.

“Nathalie,” he says softly, awestruck.

She flinches, her eyes going wide, which allows the first tears to fall. Gabriel reaches out a hand to her, but she jerks back and puts space between them. “I’m fine. I’m sorry.” She starts to back away further, but she suddenly doubles over, gripping her head. “Ah!”

“Nathalie!” He runs to her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” she brushes off, though that’s clearly not the case. “It’s just a bad headache. I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you—? There’s no need to apologize,” Gabriel insists, failing to bring her to a halt as she straightens up and flees from him once more, this time keeping a hand pressed to her head as she crosses to the other side of him. She stops, back turned to him, to stare at Emilie’s headstone once more.

He doesn’t move. Nathalie’s outburst is so bizarre that he doesn’t even know how to respond. He wants to approach her, especially in his concern, but he thinks she might run from him again.

Her head tilts up, and she breathes in sharply. “I have to ask you something,” she says abruptly, finally breaking the stiff silence. “I think it’s the worst possible day I could bring it up, but I  _ have  _ to know.”

He frowns. If it’s something sensitive, then yes, he really would prefer her to wait. But there’s something in the desperation of her tone that piques his curiosity beyond what he can stand. “What is it?”

He wishes he could see her face, but he thinks that if he moved around to the other side of her, it might cause her to retreat from him again. He tries to decipher her body language, wondering what the stiffness of her shoulders indicates.

He briefly considers tapping in with his miraculous, but he shakes that off as too large of an invasion of privacy, especially with their most recent incident.

“I know what the main  _ goal _ of retrieving the miraculouses was.” His heart skips a beat, not expecting this topic at all. “We wanted to bring back Emilie. But I don’t know  _ how _ we were going to do that. You never told me what the actual wish was going to be, only the end result.”

He approaches slowly, as if he’s attempting to reach a wounded animal. “Does it matter now?”

She doesn’t answer the question. “What would you have asked for? To bring her back to life? To erase the past?”

He finally meets her. “Why do you want to know?” He gingerly reaches out to brush her elbow with the back of his hand, making sure not to grab or push as he alerts her to his proximity. She glances down out of the corner of her eye at where he’s made contact with her, but she doesn’t run.

“I’m just curious. It’s been eating at me that in all that time, I never even knew.” She turns to face him, her expression carefully schooled into neutrality. It’s such a high level of perfect impassivity that he knows it must be false. “Gabriel, please. What would you have wished?”

“You’re curious.”

“Yes.”

He feels like this is risky territory. But her gaze on him is so intense the he finds the words coming out, anyway. “I wouldn’t have wished for her just to wake up. That wouldn’t have healed the nearly two years of grief of this family, or the terror I inflicted on the city in order to achieve my goal. But I couldn’t simply change the past either. Emilie and I found the miraculouses before Adrien was even born; if I erased that, I could have accidentally erased him. That was certainly not an option.” He curls his hands into fists. “I needed to preserve the integrity of the past, but I also needed to erase Papillon. Erase Adrien’s loneliness. Erase  _ mine.” _

Nathalie trembles, looking at him in anticipation. She reaches out and curls her fingers around his sleeve. “What was the wish?” she breathes, and it’s barely even a whisper.

_ I really shouldn’t tell you,  _ he thinks, but he also feels like this is owed to her. “I would have wished for her to put down the miraculous before the effects were permanent.” He feels her grip tighten. “That would only reset things from about two months before she fell into her sleep. You must understand,” he clarifies, “she was using it daily and pushing her abilities as far as they could go. Her decline was far more rapid than—”

_ Far more rapid than yours.  _ It feels too distasteful to say, so he lets the word die on his tongue.

They both know, however, what the end of that sentence was intended to be. Nathalie’s chin drops to her chest. “Of course.”

“Nathalie…” he begins, but he doesn’t know how to continue. He feels that there is little comfort he can give that he hasn’t offered already.

Her head snaps back up, and her eyes are fiery with determination. “I think we should keep trying.”

He recoils. “W-what?”

“I don’t think you should stop,” she says wildly, beginning to pace. “You should go back to being Papillon, obtain the miraculouses. The construction of your wish is flawless; it would truly fix everything.”

“It’s too late,” Gabriel manages to stammer out. He shakes his head. “Nathalie, slow down. Think. We’ve stopped. Emilie is at rest. There’s nothing more to be done.”

“No!” she exclaims, whirling back to him in a frenzy. “It’s not too late at all. It doesn’t matter if she’s dead or living; the wish can fix any of that. You’re resetting time, erasing everything that’s wrong.”

He searches for a response, reeling from this sudden shift in demeanor. “Why now?”

Nathalie stumbles to a stop. “What?”

He shakes his head, trying and failing to clear it. “You’ve always been nothing but supportive when it came to my decisions to put a stop to Papillon’s plans. Supportive to the extent that I’ve often wondered if that’s what you’d prefer, even if your loyalty kept you from protesting when I inevitably returned to my original plan. Why have you changed your mind?”

She shakes her head, expression almost bitter as she glances away from him. “I realized that it’s wrong. All of it. You need Emilie.  _ Adrien  _ needs Emilie. And I—” she cuts off, running an anxious hand through her hair, deconstructing her perfect bun. “I need none of this to have happened.”

“I know you’re afraid,” he finds himself saying. “It’s taking time, but you  _ will  _ heal, Nathalie. You’re not past the point of no return, not yet. And for my part, I am sorry that I let it get even this far.” She lets out a choked sound and paces away from him. “It’s not worth the risk, and I should have realized it sooner. Adrien could get hurt. You  _ could  _ decline to the point where only the wish would save you. What happens if we fail, then? I am choosing to preserve what I still have left, rather than losing it all to a desperate bid for power.”

“But there’s still so much wrong. Don’t you want to fix it all? With the miraculouses—”

“Exactly.  _ With  _ the miraculouses. There is no guarantee, Nathalie. Do you really want to gamble your life when there’s still an out?”

Nathalie throws her head skywards, letting out a frustrated growl. Her fingers rub at her eyes, smearing her mascara even further. “No, because there is no ‘out.’ You don’t understand. There are things that I can’t—” She stops, something in her eyes shifting. “Please,” she says, coming back to him. “If for nothing else, then for Adrien’s sake, please.”

His jaw clenches, and he draws himself taller. “No. For Adrien’s sake, I will not.”

Her eyes flicker rapidly between his, widening as she lets in a short breath. “No.  _ No.”  _ She takes a step back from him, determination steeling in her gaze. “It can’t go on like this. If you won’t do it, then I will. Duusu, spread—”

His reflexes act quicker than his brain can catch up, causing him to lunge forward and rip the miraculous from her sweater before she can finish the transformation phrase. He takes a large step back, watching her as she realizes she no longer has the means to become Mayura.

“No. What have you—? No!” she cries, flying toward him. His hand shoots up high above his head, out of her reach. “No!” She jumps for it, falling short. She grabs his arm, nails digging in like claws. “Please.  _ Please,  _ don’t do this.” She slides her hands down, framing his face with them. She leans in close. “Give it back, Gabriel.”

“I won’t.”

“Give it back!” she wails. Her hands drop down to beat against his chest, and he leaps back, taken by surprise by her despair. Nathalie stumbles forward, and having nothing to hold on to, topples to the ground in a heap.

Gabriel tentatively takes steps back toward her as she weeps. “No — I —I need it — I need — you  _ can’t,”  _ she sobs. “Please.”

There’s anger bubbling up hotly in his lungs, but as he takes her in, crumpled pitifully at his feet, he can’t help but let it cool. Sympathy fills its place.

He doesn’t need his miraculous to feel the waves of exhaustion and misery rolling off of her. As she lets out another keening wail, it all clicks into place. 

He slips the Peacock miraculous into his inside pocket and kneels at her side, wrapping an arm around her back to pull her close. She turns her head, sobbing into his shoulder.

“You don’t understand,” she weeps bitterly.

“That’s not fair,” he chides. “I don’t think you’re giving me quite enough credit.” He pulls a tissue from his pocket and dabs at her tears. She startles as he comes close, but doesn’t move away from him. “I didn’t always recognize it, but I do now. You’ve had the weight of the world on your shoulders for so long. For nearly two  _ years  _ you’ve been the glue holding this family together, even under immense pressure. I put more on you than you ever should have had to bear, but I was too broken to recognize it.” She lets out another sob, and he rubs her shoulder reassuringly. “You haven’t failed, Nathalie. I know you think that it is your responsibility to keep us from falling apart, and so much of that is my doing, but I want you to know that it’s  _ not.  _ This isn’t another thing that needs to be fixed. You don’t have to do it all.”

“But—”

“This isn’t on you,” he insists fiercely. “You’ve given so much — too much. It’s time to stop. Move on.”

“I can’t,” she whispers, crumpling in on herself. “Not like this.”

“You can and you will, my dear,” he says, swiping one of her tears away. He offers his outstretched arms. “You need rest. Please take it.”

She sniffles, but she eventually scoots across the ground to him, allowing him to take her in his arms. Gabriel lifts her, and she leans against his chest, fragile and feather-light in his hold.

Her crying ceases by the time he brings her up to bed, only to be replaced by stoniness. “Nathalie?” he asks. Her face is blank, and she only sighs and rolls over, turning away from him. He lets out a sign of his own, resigning himself to check back later.

She’s awake when he comes to see her again several hours later, and he’s not sure whether she’s woken up or if she never went to sleep at all. She is a complete mess — face streaked with makeup and hair half pulled from its bun, though emotionally, she seems to be more composed than before. Her eyes flicker to him as he enters, only to dart away as a blush spreads across her cheeks.

“What I did earlier was unprofessional,” she says.

“Stop.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Must I remind you that you’ve seen me in far worse a state?”

She looks at him, sadness flashing across her features before she drops her gaze.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

Her shoulders raise. “Tired. My head is pounding. I don’t think my actions earlier today helped.”

“You’re probably dehydrated. I’ll get you some water.” He rises, but doesn’t walk out. He looks back at her. “Perhaps you should take a few more days of rest. Here, at the mansion. Proper rest — no chores, no housework…”

He expects to be argued with, but to his surprise, Nathalie folds her hands over her lap and nods. “I do think that would be helpful. Will you be able to manage without me so soon after my last time off?”

“That’s my concern, not yours,” he brushes off.

Nathalie’s eyes dart to his pocket, and he instantly brings his hand up to cover it, cupped over the Peacock miraculous inside. “I don’t suppose that I could have it back?”

As much as Gabriel doesn’t want to deny her anything in this state, he fears that she may use it to transform, as she attempted earlier in her frenzied state. “I don’t believe that’s wise.”

She nods sadly, looking down. “I understand.” She closes her eyes. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll try to sleep.”

“Of course.” He turns the lights off and closes the door behind him, his eyes following her until his view is totally obscured.

The day is young, and there’s still plenty to be done. After he has left Nathalie a glass of water at her bedside and returned to his office, he picks up his tablet and begins to work. He tries to finish his tasks as best he can, behaving as if it’s just a normal day.

It’s hard to do when all he can picture is Nathalie’s breakdown on loop in his head.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)
> 
> Why do you think Nathalie wants to continue so badly?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel makes a mistake that costs him dearly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor trigger warnings in the end notes — they contain spoilers.

_I CAN'T STOP_

🦋

* * *

Gabriel is a cautious man as it is, but Nathalie’s meltdown throws him into even greater paranoia. For all of the first day, he finds himself filled with panic at random moments, gasping as he stresses over the whereabouts of the Peacock miraculous. Each time, he claps his hand over his breast, feeling the silhouette of the brooch through the fabric. Only then can he relax, breathing normally again.

By the end of the day, he’s decided he’s had enough. Nathalie has swiped the Peacock from him before, and he’d rather not be fooled twice. That evening, he special orders a new safe to be delivered to the mansion the next morning, a safe that Nathalie won’t know the codes to, and with any luck, won’t be aware of the existence of at all.

He puts the safe in his own bedroom, knowing that Nathalie will have very little reason to be in there. If she does try to go looking for the miraculous, he can easily catch her in the act. Furthermore, he hides the safe itself, placing it inside the ottomon in the middle of his walk-in closet. The code he chooses is totally new and not made up of any significant or recognizable numbers. With all these factors combined, he hopes it will be enough to keep Nathalie from getting her hands on the miraculous that rests inside.

He does feel bad for Duusu, and Nooroo’s stricken expression certainly doesn’t help as he locks the miraculous away, but it’s for the best. Perhaps, if Nathalie remains on her best behavior, he can eventually take the miraculous out again. For now, it’s better to keep it safe. To keep Nathalie safe.

And still, he feels uneasy. It’s the second stretch of days in very recent history that Nathalie’s presence is lacking. He’d thought that perhaps he’d see her around the mansion at least this time, but for the most part, she has holed herself up in her room, choosing not to leave the comfort of her privacy. Gabriel suspects that she is still embarrassed or ashamed, and although she has no reason to be, at least in his mind, he doesn’t want to push the issue.

All the same, her absence is noted, not just by himself, but by Adrien as well. It’s only the second day of Nathalie’s time off that Adrien approaches Gabriel and asks, “Where’s Nathalie? Is she okay?”

Gabriel sighs, suppressing the automatic “yes,” that wants to leap to the defense. Instead, he grimaces, and waves Adrien into his office. “It’s complicated. Let’s talk.”

Adrien sits precariously on the couch, looking uncomfortable. “Is it something really bad? She was just gone a few days ago, wasn’t she?”

“She was,” Gabriel confirms. “Nathalie is not well, as you know. The past week has been particularly difficult for her. I recognized, upon her return, that she wasn’t much better than when she left, and at my insistence, she agreed to take several more days.”

Adrien draws in on himself. “It was that bad?”

Gabriel hesitates. He’d much rather shield Adrien from the truth, but should the worst happen, God forbid, it won’t do any good to keep him in the dark. “It’s bad,” he admits. “We’re hoping a few more days will help.”

Adrien vigorously rubs his face, looking quite stressed. “How is she sick? What kind of symptoms does she have?”

“A whole slew of things.” Gabriel joins Adrien on the couch, bringing himself down to an equal level. “Mainly dizziness, headaches, and chills right now. And a nasty cough that she can’t shake, some nausea, among other issues.” He doesn’t mention quite how bad the cough has been historically, nor that it sometimes comes with blood. He thinks that might be too much for his son to take in.

“That sounds… that sounds  _ really _ bad!” Adrien exclaims, openly showing his distress. “What’s wrong with her? Do you know?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Neither of us know. She’s gone to the doctor; I’ve brought doctors  _ here,  _ but they’re not sure what’s going on. All that we can do is give her proper rest and hope it works itself out.” Tears well up in Adrien’s eyes. “Adrien,” he says softly.

“I’m sorry,” he cries. “I’m sorry!” His crying is soft, shown only by tears running slowly down his cheeks. “I’m just worried.”

“I know,” Gabriel says, putting his hand on his shoulder. “I am, too.”

“I just don’t want to lose another mom!” Adrien exclaims.

Gabriel gasps silently and flinches his hand back. Adrien’s eyes go wide as he realizes what he just said.

“I didn’t mean that,” Adrien stammers. “I mean—”

“Do you really think of her as your mother?” Gabriel can’t help but ask.

Adrien freezes, his wet eyes scanning over Gabriel’s face. “Nobody will ever take Mom’s place. I’ll always love her and miss her. But Nathalie…” his eyes scrunch shut. “She’s practically raised me these past two years. She’s part of our family, isn’t she? She’s not  _ Mom,  _ but she’s still my mom. A different mom. Or at least as close to one as I could have.” Adrien blinks up at him, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry, Father, I know it’s a sensitive subject. I know you miss her even more than me. Are you mad?”

“No,” Gabriel, says truthfully. The confession has stolen some of the air out of his lungs, but he’s not angered. “I simply hadn’t realized that you felt that way. I didn’t notice how close the two of you have grown.”

Adrien nods and sniffs, tears coming to a stop. After a second, his face crumples all over again, fresh tears spilling from his eyes.

“Oh, Adrien,” Gabriel says sympathetically. He wish he had a solution to ease Adrien’s fear, but he’s coming up empty.

“I know crying doesn’t help. I’m being weak. I shouldn’t — I’m sorry,” Adrien sputters. “I don’t know why I can’t stop.”

Seeing his son crying makes Gabriel uncomfortable. He wants nothing more than to tell him to dry his eyes and wipe his tears so they can move on with their day and not dwell on the subject any longer. But deep down, he knows that wouldn’t be fair. “It’s not shameful to feel,” Gabriel tells him, even if every instinct in his body is protesting the idea. “If you feel like crying, cry. You’re not alone in your worry.”

Adrien leans forward and ducks into Gabriel’s chest. Gabriel brings a hand to his hair and runs his fingers through it comfortingly.

“Is she going to be okay?” Adrien asks in a small voice. Gabriel can tell that in this moment, he’s looking for reassurance, not necessarily an honest answer. 

“She will be okay,” Gabriel responds. “She’s a strong, resilient woman.” At least he knows that part to be true. “And I’m doing everything I can to ensure she takes care of herself. Do you trust me to do that?”

Adrien sighs, pulling himself up. “Yeah. I don’t know what came over me. You’re right.” He smiles, eyes still watery. “She’s Nathalie. She can do anything.”

Gabriel smiles back. “That she can.”

He thinks he believes it too, especially when Nathalie surprises him with her return only two days later. 

“Good morning, sir,” she greets him after Adrien has left for school, placing a mug of coffee at his desk and walking away as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred over the past few days at all.

“Nathalie,” he exclaims, taken aback. “Oh, no thank you,” he says upon fully registering the coffee in front of him. “I’ve already had some.” She frowns, but takes the mug away wordlessly. “Nathalie, wait.”

“Yes, sir?” she asks.

“How are you feeling? Did your time off help?”

She gives him a gentle, closed-lipped smile. “It did, thank you. I’m feeling much better.”

He is reluctant to take her words at face value, especially after hearing her insistence that she was “fine” so many times before, but for the most part, it seems to be true. She looks brighter, more well-rested, and far calmer than he’s seen her in recent days. He notices that her coughing has diminished significantly. She only coughs twice in his presence that morning, and unless she’s gotten much better at hiding her tissues, neither occasion results in blood.

The headaches do seem to remain, however, as well as chills, if Nathalie’s boxy turtleneck is anything to go by. The part of him that is a fashion designer can’t help but comment,  _ It’s not exactly flattering. It swallows her up. _

The part of him that is human retorts, _ It’s a better look than blue-lipped and shivering. _

He worries a bit when he notices her rubbing her temples later, a deep scowl on her face, but she brushes him off. “You have a meeting in twenty minutes, sir. You have to leave now or you’ll be late.”

Gabriel is annoyed and a little concerned that he can’t stay to watch after her, but the fact that her headache doesn’t seem severe enough to keep her from functioning is a small reassurance. He grunts and pushes out the door, reluctantly leaving her behind.

His meeting is long, stressful, and tedious, forcing him to repeat himself multiple times to complete, utter imbeciles. He returns an hour later, stressed out and vexed. He can feel Nathalie’s eyes on him as he storms back to his desk, and sure enough, she is regarding him with a single arched brow when he turns around and snaps, “What?”

“It looks like your meeting was unpleasant,” she remarks kindly, and the ire begins to melt out of him. She rises from her desk, tapping her chin thoughtfully with her pen. “You know, sir, I brought some stress relief tea back here from when I took a few days at home. Perhaps you’d like some?”

“That would be lovely, Nathalie,” he says, feeling slightly guilty. “Thank you.”

She brings it to him in a few minutes, and he takes a sip. A strange flavor washes over his tongue — strongly herbal and sweet with something else coming through that he can’t quite identify.

“It has an… interesting taste,” he remarks. He’s not entirely sure he enjoys it, but he continues to drink, not wanting to be rude. He doesn’t think he’s doing a convincing job, because he can feel Nathalie’s eyes weighing on him the entire time. He downs the mug quickly to please her, hoping that that is enough to make up for his unenthusiastic expression and his rudeness earlier.

He resumes his work, and over time, he does feel tension seep out of his body, replaced by quiet contentment and even a little bit of sleepiness. Maybe fifteen minutes later, he hears a soft, “Oh,” from Nathalie’s direction. She’s standing in a wide stance in the middle of the room, a hand pressed to her head.

“Are you okay?” he asks, setting down his tablet with concern.

“I think so,” she says, reaching out for something to steady her. He briskly walks over, offering her his arm to latch onto. “I just got a bit lightheaded.”

“Come sit down,” he suggests, leading her to the couch. “You’ve been working hard all day.”

“But I’ve only just completed today’s tasks. The catch-up—” she starts weakly.

“—Is not as bad as you think it is,” Gabriel says as she sits. “I delegated most of your work and did the rest of it myself. What use would it have been to take a few days of rest if it just piled up for when you returned?”

She looks down, expression conflicted. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”

“Please, it was the  _ least  _ I could do,” he insists. “Now, can I get you anything? What would help you right now?”

“No, no, I’ll be okay. I just need a minute to sit,” she says, leaning back. She shoots him a glance out of the corner of her eye. “Only… could you sit here with me?”

He quirks a smile at her and sits, taking his usual spot in the corner of the couch, to her left hand side. Despite being the one to invite his company, she seems suddenly nervous. He watches as she looks down at her hands, picking the edge of her nail.

“Adrien was worried about you,” he says gently, hoping to put her at ease.

However, this seems to have the opposite of the intended effect. She jerks back in surprise. “He—he was?”

“Of course. He cares for you a lot.”

Nathalie scrunches her eyes shut. “I know. I know. I don’t — Can we talk about something else?”

Gabriel frowns, but doesn’t push the topic. He knows Nathalie’s health can be a sensitive issue. Instead he leans back, melting into the couch, feeling relaxed and hazy. “I think your tea is working wonders. You’ll have to let me order more.”

Nathalie’s eyes dart to him uneasily. “It is? Good.”

“It is.” He smiles, giving into gravity even more. He lets out a lazy, contented sigh, filled with sudden fondness. “You really are incredible.”

Nathalie flinches, squeezing her eyes shut again. “Sir.”

“Wait. Listen. You are,” he insists. “You have so much on your plate, and yet, you manage to find so many ways to take care of me. And Adrien, too.”

“It’s nothing,” she snaps. “You don’t have to—”

“You’re a valued part of this family,” Gabriel says. “I need you to know that.”

“Please, stop!” she exclaims, jumping to her feet. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I—” she cuts, off, cupping a hand over her eyes. She lets out a shaky sigh. “I’m going to clean up your empty mug. Take a few minutes off your feet. I’ll be back.”

“Nathalie,” he protests, raising his head. His head protests back at him, suddenly spinning. “What?” he exclaims, trying to blink away the sudden blurriness in his vision. The room shifts in and out of focus, and he feels as if he can’t control his own eyes. “I. I—”

“Sir?” Nathalie asks. He sees two of her weaving in and out, and he’s not sure which was the one to speak. She looks worried, yet not surprised, but his muddled brain doesn’t know what to do with that information other than regard it with confusion.

“Nathalie?” He is afraid now, not understanding why his vision is suddenly failing him. He closes his eyes and attempts to stand, but his body is not cooperating either. He only slumps further on the couch, his limbs weak and useless. “H-help.”

Her voice is shaky, but dangerous as she says. “I told you to take a few minutes off your feet, sir.”

He tries again to lift his head, but his body fails him. “Nath’lie, whatdidyoudo?” he demands, panicked. Through the fogginess of his vision, he can see her wince, clutching the empty mug a bit tighter. The mug… “You  _ drugged me.” _

“I had no choice.” Her voice wavers. “No choice.”

“W-whatever you’re gonna do,” he slurs, silently cursing his lips and tongue for not cooperating, “please, don’t. We c’n fix this.” She takes a step back from him. “D’n’t go. D-d.” He tries to reach out, but he can’t. His arm is a dead weight. Nathalie takes another step back, becoming nothing more than a blur that he desperately wants to hold onto, but can’t catch. “Nath’lie.”

He can’t keep his eyes open any longer. They fall closed, pitching him into darkness. The last thing he hears before he drops into unconsciousness is, “I’m sorry.”

What follows is unpleasant. His blackout does not bring peace, as he is faced with restless sleep, hallucinations, and the feeling of horrible pressure weighing him down. He isn’t quite in an aware state, but every now and then he slips into enough semi-consciousness to know that something is extremely wrong.

At some point, he finally jerks awake, his tongue sticking dryly to the roof of his mouth. The room is still filled with daylight, but it is the work of the afternoon sun, having travelled far across the sky since his eyes were last open. He squints, head pounding. He staggers off the couch, limbs finally functioning again, if not shakily, and immediately throws up into Nathalie’s wastebasket.

He stays there for a moment, head down by his own sick as he attempts to get his mind and body back in order. He steals a quick glance at his watch. Several hours have passed, but there’s still some day left. Adrien is fortunately still at school, and Gabriel thanks his lucky stars that Adrien had lunch plans with friends today that kept him away from the house. Even these simple thoughts are too much for his aching head, and he retches once more into the wastebasket.

He finally drags himself to his feet a minute later. His body protests, but he is able to stay steady as he draws himself up. As soon as he’s sure that he can remain upright, he rushes to his bedroom, knowing exactly what Nathalie would attempt to do.

He stumbles a few times up the stairs, but he makes it there in decent time. Once he has fumbled his way into his bedroom, his feet slowly becoming more reliable beneath him, he tears off the top of his ottoman, pulls out the safe, and puts in the code. He swings the door open only to find that the miraculous is —

In the safe. It’s still there. All he can do for a moment is gape at the spot that he was sure would be empty. The Peacock miraculous glimmers back at him.

Had Nathalie failed? No, that couldn’t possibly be the case. Even if she hadn’t been able to get the safe open, he knows she would be too stubborn to give up. She would still be there, trying to bust off the lock, or she would have taken it with her. He sets down the safe, thoroughly confused.

He recognizes this is not a question he can solve by himself. “What could this mean, Nooroo?” he asks. “I was sure she’d go straight for the miraculous.” Nooroo doesn’t answer. “Nooroo?” Gabriel swivels his head around, searching for the kwami, who is nowhere to be found.

He looks back down at the safe, and has an awful, sinking feeling. Slowly, not quite believing it, he reaches for where the Butterfly brooch is typically pinned at his throat. 

Nathalie hadn’t taken the Peacock miraculous.

She’d taken  _ his  _ miraculous instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: drugged drink, but not in a date-rape context.
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> Did you think Nathalie would take it so far? And what will Gabriel do now?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel deals with the aftermath of Nathalie's betrayal.

🦋

As soon as Gabriel feels that the collar of his shirt is bare, he grabs the Peacock miraculous and rushes back downstairs, his heartbeat pounding painfully in his temples.

He manages to make it down without incident, despite still feeling queasy and unsure on his feet. He throws open the doors of his atelier, hurries to his desk, and picks up his tablet.

His fingers are clumsy, but he manages to pull up Safari and type in “news.” He expects to see sightings of a new Butterfly supervillain, but the first stories that come up are entirely unrelated. An article on the dangers of vaping. A minor political scandal. A new exhibit at the Louvre.

He furrows his brow. That can’t be right. It should be the top headline everywhere.

He puts the tablet down and grabs his phone instead. Before he can focus too much energy into this, he needs to get some water into his system so he doesn’t pass out again.

He scrolls through news sites on his way to the kitchen, however, and it’s much of the same. He looks at  _ France 24 _ as he grabs a glass. Nothing.  _ Le Monde _ as he pours the water. Nothing again. His first sip brings a feeling of relief, but checking  _ 20 Minutes _ does not. He gets more uneasy with each site he scrolls through, finding no mention of a new villain.

He downs his glass quickly and fills another. Once he has done that, he rushes back to the atelier and pins the Peacock miraculous to his shirt. Duusu materializes from an orb of purple light.

“Mister Gabriel!” she exclaims, and he winces, his head still not quite right from being drugged. “What’s going on?” she says, noticing very quickly that something is off. “Where’s Miss Nathalie?”

“What is the last thing you can recall?” he croaks. It hurts his throat. He takes another long sip of water.

Duusu turns her eyes skyward in thought. “Hmm… I remember… oh.” she deflates, looking sad. “She tried to transform downstairs at Miss Emilie’s grave, and then suddenly, she wasn’t my holder anymore. What happened?”

“I took the miraculous from her,” Gabriel explains, sitting on the couch. “She was upset, not thinking straight, and I was afraid she would hurt herself further. I locked it in a safe, assuming that if it was out of her reach, the problem would be solved.” He sets his glass down, shaking his head. “A foolish move on my part, it seems. Now there’s a bigger issue.”

“What’s that?”

Gabriel touches the Peacock miraculous, pinned to him where the Butterfly usually resides. Duusu’s eyes widen. “This morning Nathalie drugged my tea and stole  _ my  _ miraculous. I have no idea where she is or how to find her.”

“Oh no,” Duusu cries, coming to rest sadly on his knee. “Why did she do that? What is she going to do with it?”

Gabriel’s gaze drops in disappointment. “I had been hoping you would be able to tell me that. She didn’t say anything that could indicate her plan?”

The kwami shakes her head. “No. She barely talked to me in the past week. I don’t know why.” Tears leak out of her eyes. “She left me.”

“It’s nothing that you did, Duusu,” he assures her. “Whatever this is about, Nathalie went through great pains to keep it secret. She knew that if she told you it would get back to me.” Duusu still droops. “I’m sure she’d much prefer to have you with her right now. I was the one who took away that option.”

“Did Nooroo transform her yet?” she asks quietly.

“No,” Gabriel says, pulling out his phone once more to show her the newspages he was viewing previously. “At least not publicly. There’s no sign of a new Papillon, or even an akuma. I have no idea what she’s waiting for.”

“What about you?” the kwami asks.

He furrows his brow in confusion. “What do you mean, Duusu?”

“When you decided to become Papillon! Did you make a public appearance right away? Did you send akumas out?”

“No,” he admits. “I practiced with my new powers first for nearly a month. Transforming, using the dark side of the miraculous, creating the vehicle for my akumas. Not to mention hatching the butterflies to begin with. That took a week alone, even with magic speeding up the process.”

“Then she’s probably doing the same thing! Did she take any butterflies?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been up yet to see. Shall we?” he asks, standing. They go to the portrait of Emilie, he presses the buttons, and they rise into his lair.

It’s hard to say how many butterflies are missing. He’d never really counted before, but there do seem to be less than usual. “I think she took a few with her, but not many,” he informs Duusu.

“That looks about right,” she agrees. “Oh, I wish she hadn’t left.” Duusu lands back on his shoulder, drooping.

“I know,” Gabriel responds quietly, looking into the cold emptiness of his lair. “I wish she hadn’t left, too.”

“What will you do now?”

He wishes he had a better answer. “Wait, I suppose. While I’m itching to search her out, there’s not much I can do until she goes public. Then, perhaps, I can start to track her down.”

“You’re going to bring her home?”

“That’s the hope,” he says, patting her head gently. Duusu leans into his contact. “Come,” he says. He finds this place horridly depressing and he’d rather not spend another second in it.

He visits Nathalie’s apartment, just in case, but just as he’d suspected, she’s too smart to go back there. He picks the lock and goes inside, noticing that there’s already a thin coat of dust on all the surfaces. Nathalie hasn’t been here at all, not even to pick up a few items for herself. 

He logs into her computer, hoping that there may be some clue as to her whereabouts. She’s thankfully still logged into her bank account, so he looks at her credit card history in the hopes that a recent purchase can take him to her. There’s only one recent transaction, however, made shortly after her escape from the mansion — a large transaction at the nearby Monoprix. Gabriel’s heart sinks. Judging by the size of the purchase, Nathalie will have left there with everything she needs in the foreseeable future, and she is sure to be far away by now.

He takes the laptop with him, even though it is a long shot, but he expects that she’s not going to be found until she makes a move with the miraculous.

He is on high alert all week, checking at least once an hour for any updates, with special alerts set on his phone as well. He tries to get as much work done as he can. Most of Nathalie’s work can be delegated, but there is some extra that falls to him. And he also realizes, thinking ahead, that when Nathalie does surface, he’ll be spending a lot of time trying to bring her back. And after that, if he succeeds? There’s clearly something unspoken and important happening that they’ll need to figure out together. It’s best to stay ahead while he can because soon, all hell will break loose, one way or another.

And yet, perhaps he is too distracted. All of his designs are Nathalie to the core. There’s practical and classy suits for women, followed by gorgeous blue gowns with luxurious fabric and high slits. And then, there’s his worry, manifesting right in his work as butterfly shapes and purple hues as he tries to break away from Nathalie and Mayura-inspired designs. It seems no matter what he does, he can’t escape her, even as she continues to escape him.

He’s nearly driven mad by how long it takes to hear anything at all. After almost a week has passed, there’s finally news. His phone buzzes with an alert one afternoon, and he nearly has a heart attack as he sees that there is a new akuma. He scrounges through every article out there, desperate for information.

“Is it her?” Duusu asks, reading the last article with him over his shoulder.

“It has to be. But there’s no mention by name.” He looks up at her, for once feeling as if he needs guidance in his task. “Do I go?”

“You can’t, not as a civilian! You’ll get hurt!”

“I wasn’t planning on being a civilian,” he says, touching the miraculous lightly.

Her eyes widen. “You’re going to use my miraculous?” He nods. “But it’s still broken.”

“Yes.”

“Then no, don’t!” she squeals. “I know you’re impatient —”

“I am not impatient,” he protests, cutting in.

“—But it’s a bad idea. When you transform, you’ll get sick. And each time after that, you’ll only get worse, just like Miss Nathalie! You need to save your strength!”

He glances back at the tablet, watching the newest akuma wreak havoc. “But…” he trails off, not finding a valid argument other than he’s worried and he wants to.

“Wait until she’s spotted in public. You have to be careful, Mister Gabriel. If you act too soon, you might end up too weak to do anything when you finally have the chance.”

He knows Duusu is right, so he stays in, fiddling with the brooch at his throat, but never activating it. He follows live updates on the akuma, waiting for any sign that Nathalie has surfaced, but it never comes.

It’s a particularly difficult akuma, one that doesn’t get defeated for several hours, and at no time during the battle does Nathalie seem to feel the need to emerge. He frowns as the last update comes through and closes the app without a word, returning to his work.

He can’t help but be impressed, despite the circumstances. His first akuma had not been so successful. The only reason it posed much of a challenge at all was because of the incompetence of the new heroes. And unlike the heroes, he had been training for weeks, a luxury Nathalie had not taken with the Butterfly miraculous. And still, she managed to perform far better than he did.

He recognizes that this may not be a good thing.

As he lies in bed that night, he looks at the recaps and follow up stories on the akuma. Just as he is about to turn in, there’s a new notification.  _ “A New Papillon?”  _ the headline reads. He immediately sits up, devouring the article.

There’s no sighting of Nathalie, just as suspected, but there is news. “What does it say?” Duusu asks. He shushes her, finishing reading and trying to absorb before passing the information on.

“The victim remembers the first few seconds before he was akumatized. He’s reporting that it was not Papillon who akumatized him. It was a woman. Named Swallowtail.”

“Swallowtail,” Duusu breathes. “That’s her. It has to be her!”

“Yes,” Gabriel says, removing his glasses and setting them aside with his phone. “That’s Nathalie.” A sense of peace that he hasn’t felt in days washes over him. Suddenly, before he can help himself, a laugh bursts out of him, followed by another. Soon, laughter overtakes him entirely as he falls back against his pillows.

“I don’t get it,” Duusu comments. “Why are you laughing?”

He doesn’t know how to articulate the feeling of relief that is washing over him. “She’s okay,” he says breathlessly. “She’s alive.” And then, just as quickly as it had started, the laughing turns into choked sobs. “She is still alive.” For the first time in over a month, he finds himself weeping. All the fear and worry that has been building up inside of him finally breaks the dam, spilling over with a vengeance.

Duusu’s own eyes are teary. “I think I understand now,” she says smally. She nestles against his cheek on his pillow. “Why did she do it?”

He stares at the ceiling until he sees spots, but he can’t find any answers up there. He has no idea why Nathalie would suddenly change her tune and want to complete his wish again. He understands even less how she could be driven so far as to steal from him. “I don’t know,” he finally admits once his eyes dry up.

Duusu hesitates before saying, “She hurt you, Mister Gabriel.”

“Yes. Very much.”

“But you’re not mad at her.”

He looks at Duusu in surprise out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, I’m furious.”

The kwami’s brow furrows as she tries to work that out. “You don’t seem mad. I don’t even feel it!”

Gabriel closes his eyes, wondering how to explain. “My anger at her right now is as deep and wide as the Seine. But everything else? Our history, our friendship? Everything she put up with when I was at  _ my  _ worst, and now me, seeing that she’s clearly beyond ill and desperate for some unknown reason? All those things together are the size of the  _ ocean,  _ Duusu. The anger simply doesn’t compare. I just want her home.”

Duusu sighs and settles in further. “Me too.” They drift off to an uneasy sleep together.

The next few days are still tense, but a little bit better. Simply knowing that Nathalie is out there and alive does a lot to ease Gabriel’s worry. There are two more akumas during that time, but no sightings of Swallowtail, which puts him slightly on edge, but he decides that little news is better than no news at all. 

What he doesn’t expect is to be asleep for the first sighting. He wakes up one morning, over a week after Nathalie ran off, to eighteen notifications on his phone all saying the same thing: Swallowtail has been sighted. He quickly clicks on the first one, scrolling down to see for himself. 

He can instantly tell that she is Nathalie. That may not have been the case if he hadn’t already known her identity, but it is easy to recognize when he knows who he’s looking for.   
He marvels at the photos, in awe of this transformation, so different than Mayura.

Swallowtail’s skin is Nathalie’s normal tone, though a closer shot does show a few delicate purple veins on her cheeks. Her eyes are their natural color as well, though she still doesn’t wear a mask. Instead, her eyes are framed by actual butterfly wings, painted delicately on her lids and extending out from her brow-bone. Her hair is midnight blue, the streak of red transformed into a shade of lavender, and it is all pulled together by a ribbon in a loose, messy ponytail.

She wears a dress of a light gauzy material, the top of it a plain pale gray button down that ends in an empire waist. From there fall layers upon layers of scalloped fabric, floating around her loosely like real butterfly wings. The color fades down from dark stoney blue to the same light color of the top of the dress.

Over the dress is a jacket, not dissimilar from Papillon’s. It is a deep violet and it hangs open. On the back, large tails and a cloak-like layer fan out together like wings.

Gabriel stares at the pictures, drinking in every last detail. Of all the forms he’d expected Nathalie to take, this was not one of them.

But then again, what exactly had he expected? The same outfit as Mayura? Or just a feminine version of Papillon?

Maybe he just didn’t think she’d be glaring at the camera head-on, her eyes piercing through him.

“Mister Gabriel!” Duusu pipes up. “It is Miss Nathalie, right?”

He swipes through, again, still in awe. “Yes,” he mumbles absentmindedly. He notices how under her dress, her lavender tights fade seamlessly into dark boots, a feat only the miraculous could achieve.

“Then hurry, we have to go!”

He shakes himself out of his stupor. “Of course.” He checks the timestamp on the article. Thankfully, the last update was only a couple of minutes ago. “Duusu, spread my—!”

“Wait!” she cuts in.

“What now?” he demands. She points down at his attire, which is currently only a silky pair of pajama bottoms. “Oh.” Although he’ll be transformed, it would indeed be best to put some clothes on, especially if he finds himself needing to detransform outside of the mansion.

He rushes into the bathroom and makes a quick effort to dress himself appropriately. When he’s finally clothed, he pins the miraculous to his shirt and looks to Duusu.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

Suddenly, he feels like he isn’t. He knows that the broken miraculous will be a lot to bear, and his fingers tremble as he secures the brooch better. But he thinks of Nathalie, who had transformed fearlessly so many times before him, and he steels himself. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Duusu, spread my feathers!” he calls, closing his eyes.

Immediately, he can feel that the power washing over him is damaged. It vibrates deep in his bones in a way that the Butterfly’s power doesn’t, burning him from the inside out. He grips the counter as the transformation finishes, squeezing tighter as he feels himself weaken already. He doesn’t know how Nathalie had managed to become Mayura so many times. Just this single transformation makes him feel as if he’s being slowly torn apart.

He blinks his eyes open to regard his new form. The light makes his head pound, and he struggles to focus. Immediately, he jumps back, frightened by the appearance of his hands. His heart thunders as he realizes that he is wearing blood red gloves, and he suddenly feels unclean.

The rest of his appearance unsettles him even more. He raises his eyes to see that his skin is thankfully a human-like hue, but it is still slightly pale with bluish undertones that appear even in his lips and cheeks, like a dead man’s. He wears a mask over the top part of his face, with peacock feather designs falling down from his scarlet-rimmed eyes like giant teardrops.

His outfit is a dark, dusky indigo with more feather detailing down his shirt. This is with the exception of his boots, which are shiny, black, and heeled, and his cloak, which is huge, hooded, and vibrant blue, near to the color of Mayura’s dress.

What truly makes him sick, however, are the feather designs. Mayura’s feather pattern had been far more abstract, the singular circles falling in a small pattern along her skirt. As he turns in the mirror, he sees dozens of nested ovals painted down the back of his cloak in a dizzying design, staring back at him.

Like one hundred bloody eyes, judging him for letting it come to this.

He stumbles away from the mirror, unable to bear his own appearance any longer.

The throbbing of his head doesn’t cease, and he does his best to put it out of mind as he goes through a mental checklist of what he needs to do. Before he leaves, he picks up his phone one more time to check for updates. Now that Swallowtail has been spotted by news crews, it seems that it was easy for Ladybug and Chat Noir to find her as well. Live coverage shows them battling face to face on a rooftop that he recognizes as being not far from  _ Françoise Dupont. _

He quickly throws his phone aside and prepares to leave. But he pauses, hearing Duusu ask,  _ What is your name?  _ even though she is contained inside the miraculous. Maybe it’s his own conscience speaking.

Much like when he’d first taken up the mantle of Papillon, the name bubbles up out of him without having to give it a thought. “Panoptes,” he announces aloud. He thinks it’s quite appropriate.

So he departs, head splitting, blood boiling under his skin.

And all of the eyes of Argos are watching him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
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> How do you like the new Butterfly and Peacock villains?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panoptes goes out to bring Swallowtail home, but she has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I nearly forgot! ShadowMayura on Tumblr did some lovely Swallowtail and Panoptes drawings. You can see them on her blog here: https://shadowmayura.tumblr.com/post/189676899112/shadowmayura-im-in-love-with-mymayuras-fic
> 
> Go check them out because they're beautiful, and it was very sweet of her to do.

🦋

The battle has moved from its original location by the time Panoptes draws near. He can see the remnants of it in scuff marks and broken tiles, but the participants are gone. He looks around, hoping he hasn’t missed his chance, not when his blood is on fire and his head aching with unbearable pressure, and the damage to his body has clearly been done.

He stumbles to a stop, hoping for some clue. There is no sign of Swallowtail, Ladybug, or Chat Noir, but as he comes to stillness, he hears scuffling above him. He looks up, believing to have located them on a higher rooftop, which is confirmed as he sees Ladybug’s yoyo fly out for a moment over the edge.

Before he can even really think about it, he leaps upward, grabbing the sill of a window to pull himself towards the top of the building. It’s a bad choice — the sill is slippery and worn down, and he practically has to claw his way up to maintain any kind of hold.

This is something he has realized in his few minutes thus far as Panoptes— he was always in control as Papillon, but the Peacock miraculous seems to have a will of its own, and Panoptes is not very good at rejecting the miraculous’s impulses. His heart had pounded furiously in his chest on his way there as he found himself leaping recklessly across rooftops, scrabbling on loose tiles and poor footholds with barely a pause. As much as he had tried to slow himself, he couldn’t. His legs had sent him flying of their own accord, and more than once, he’d been forced to lunge for a hold, heart leaping in his throat as he’d begun to lose his balance high above the Parisian streets.

He wonders if Mayura had been a slave to the same whims, or if she had wrangled control over this power better than him. Remembering how eagerly yet skillfully she’d jumped into battle so many times, he thinks she struck a better balance than he. Often, he’d thought her fearless, but now he realizes that even with the Peacock’s impulsive energy, she’d always managed to maintain her calculating nature. She, too, would scurry across rooftops in an unpredictable pattern, but she never found herself flailing for support as she jumped incorrectly.

Panoptes is a poor imitation.

When he reaches the ledge of the roof, he peeks over to evaluate the situation. It takes every bit of inner strength he has to not instantly leap forward, propelled by the miraculous’s yearning.

It seems to be a fairly even fight, and Panoptes is glad that Swallowtail has managed to hold her own, despite being outnumbered two-to-one. However, they are all locked in a stalemate, and she can’t seem to get the upper hand, not with the two heroes battling her at once. Every time she manages to fend them both off, he realizes, they recover in time to prevent her from releasing an akuma.

He just needs to figure out how to jump in without escalating the situation. This isn’t a battle he can win, not when everyone else is technically against him. He’ll need to be tactful. He’ll need to mediate. He’ll need to —

Of course it can’t be that simple, however. Just when he’s become confident in the fighting pattern, Swallowtail beats the heroes back with her cane and immediately releases an akuma, despite the fact that her opponents are still in close range. She manages to recover from her moment of vulnerability, blocking their attacks until Chat Noir’s fist slips past her defenses to make contact with her jaw, allowing Ladybug to snatch the akuma out of the air with her yoyo before it can find a target.

Chat Noir takes the opportunity to swing his staff around towards Swallowtail. Before Panoptes can help himself, he springs up and throws himself in front of her to block the blow.

Too late, he notices that she’s anticipated the strike herself. Her cane rises to protect her, and it becomes tangled in his cloak, just as Chat’s staff hits him sharply in the ribs. Yelping in pain, Panoptes stumbles back, tripping over Swallowtail and bringing her down to the ground with him.

He’s paralyzed for a moment, and he can do nothing but cough horribly as his lungs ignite. He is vaguely aware of Swallowtail’s legs snaking out from under his back, and soon she is standing over him, hissing, “Gabriel, what the hell are you doing?” He can only cough in response. “That is you, isn’t it?” He nods. Her eyes widen. “No. You shouldn’t be here. You  _ can’t  _ be here.”

“Too late,” he manages to wheeze, pulling himself to his feet. The world spins for a moment, finally becoming solid as he zeroes in on Ladybug and Chat’s confused faces. “Well, that wasn’t exactly the first impression I was hoping for,” he comments. His voice is surprisingly hoarse. It barely sounds like his own.

“Who the —  _ Papillon?”  _ Ladybug exclaims.

“Panoptes now,” he responds.

“She doesn’t just have  _ his  _ miraculous,” Chat Noir says, looking at her in alarm. “They swapped.”

“Not exactly,” Panoptes growls. The two kids start towards him, weapons raised. “Wait! This situation is far more complicated than you—” he cuts off as the heroes rush towards him and he is forced to raise his fan in defense. He fumbles with it, and it does little to block their attacks. He finds it to be incredibly clumsy as a weapon. “Swallowtail,” he demands, “how in God’s name do you use this thing?”

“By not getting involved in situations that I have no business in being a part of,” she bites back, standing aside. She seems perfectly happy to let Ladybug and Chat Noir pummel him to bits. “Seriously, Papill— _ Panoptes,”  _ she corrects with an eye roll, “what were you thinking? The miraculous is still broken!”

Chat glances at Ladybug, even as he expertly dodges a blow. “It’s broken? Do you think that’s why they switched?”

She lands a punch that makes his arm ache as she muses back, “But wasn’t Papillon in charge? Why would he want the broken one?”

“No,” Panoptes gasps. “We didn’t exactly — It wasn’t a willing exchange. You would  _ know  _ that if you could just let me—”

But the heroes seem to have no inclination to let him explain. Chat hits him hard again, enough to make him groan aloud, while Ladybug rushes at Swallowtail once more. Panoptes barely has time to grab Ladybug by the arm and spin her back towards Chat Noir. He stands firm, blocking Swallowtail from their attacks.

It’s clear that the heroes are surprised, not quite knowing how to respond as he plays interference without a single attack of his own. There had been times that Papillon had played more defense than offense with the young heroes before, but never like this, never refusing to deal any blows to them at all.

Swallowtail, on the other hand, takes full advantage of the situation and is willing to play dirty. As the three of them are distracted, she releases another akuma. “Don’t!” Panoptes protests too late, as the butterfly is already high above their heads and heading towards a target. His own moment of distraction causes him to fall further back, coming close enough to Swallowtail to feel the heat from her body behind him. She is breathing very heavily.

“Are you okay?” he whispers. He glances back long enough to see surprise written on her features. “You’ve been so sick… I’m worried about you pushing yourself like this.”

She doesn’t answer. He takes another fumbling step back, up against her, and before he can fully register the feeling of their bodies making contact, she shoves him forward, tumbling into Ladybug and Chat Noir.

He looks back at her from their tangled heap, and she seems shocked, and maybe even slightly regretful. But then, something steels in her eyes. “You should worry about yourself,” she warns. He looks down just in time to see a spotted hand reaching for his brooch, and he pulls himself away before it can be stolen from him.

Now, he finds himself playing defense with everyone. Ladybug and Chat Noir continue to attack him and Swallowtail, but Swallowtail chooses to attack him as well, swinging her cane towards him every time he backs up too close to her. He barely manages to hold off their attacks, coming from all angles.

It’s a race against time for all of them. He’s heard a warning beep from each of the heroes miraculouses. Normally, he’d count this as a definite win, but as Panoptes, he is wearing out, and he knows Swallowtail is too.

It’s no surprise when he can no longer keep up. He deflects Chat Noir’s staff, which was thrown towards Swallowtail, but fails to stop Ladybug’s yoyo from clocking him in the temple. He falls down, dazed.

Unfortunately, Swallowtail loses her own strength at the same moment. Panoptes’s vision is foggy, but he can see her begin to stumble, reaching for something to hold onto, but only finding air. Ladybug and Chat Noir advance, ready to take her down.

He forces himself to his feet and, reluctantly, makes his first aggressive attack.  _ They’re just kids,  _ an unhelpful voice supplies as he grabs both of them and flings them against the wall.

It seems that the cloak really does come with a conscience.

The attack pays off, however, leaving the heroes too stunned to rise. Panoptes turns just in time to see Swallowtail’s knees buckle under her.

She is dangerously close to the edge.

He leaps after her as she takes a nosedive off the building. He catches her before they can hit the ground, and his cloak and fan combined offer enough resistance to slow their fall. Purple light washes over, leaving Nathalie’s face falling against his chest where Swallowtail’s was a moment before.

There is no time to even look at her properly beyond ensuring she’s alive, indicated to him by the fluttering of her lashes. His fingers itch to grab her brooch, but he knows he can’t, not in the open like this. He glances back up, relieved that the heroes have not pursued them yet. Nothing is solved if Swallowtail’s identity is publicly revealed and she is imprisoned. He can’t let that happen.

He sets her down quickly behind some bins, hidden from view. “Help her,” he begs Nooroo, getting a glimpse of the kwami’s shocked face before he hops back up the side of the building, intending to hold off the heroes as long as he can.

He hopes that she can transform again before it’s too late.

Chat Noir has already risen when Panoptes clambers back up onto the roof. Ladybug is making her way to her feet with his assistance.

Panoptes sighs. He doesn’t want to fight anymore.

But Chat Noir has other plans. The young hero rushes at him once more, forcing Panoptes to engage in combat. He tries not to hurt him any further, nor Ladybug once she joins in.

It is hard to only play defense, however, without dealing any attacks of his own. He is still worn down from the battle and from the corrupted power of the miraculous. Before long, the razor blade pain in his throat can no longer be ignored, and he doubles over coughing. The second he rights himself again, Ladybug’s yoyo wraps around his feet and sends him to his back.

He looks skyward just in time to see Swallowtail up on the higher part of the building, above the wall where he had previously flung the heroes. 

“Swallowtail!” he calls desperately. “We can figure this out! Please, come home!” She takes a step back. “Mayura!” he tries.

Swallowtail flinches. He’s not sure if he’s imagining it in his fragile state, but he thinks he sees her shake her head slightly, a sad expression on her face. She turns and lunges away.    
Away from him, away from the Agreste mansion.

“Aww, spat with the wife?” Chat Noir taunts. “Is that really what this is all about?”

“She’s not my—” Panoptes cuts himself off. There are bigger fish to fry. “There is much you don’t understand about this situation. If you’d just let me explain—”

“Fat chance,” Chat Noir says.

“Yeah,” Ladybug chimes in triumphantly, tightening the bonds around his ankles, “you’re only saying that now that you’ve been caught.”

“Have you been paying attention at all?” he grits incredulously. “Why do you think I was pulling my punches for almost the entire battle? For fun?”

“More like in- _ cough- _ petence,” Chat Noir mutters to Ladybug.

Panoptes lets out a frustrated huff. “Please. I’m not as skilled as Mayura, but I’m not entirely useless either. You can’t be so naïve as to believe that I was giving my all.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir give each other a dark look and ignore his words, instead advancing to take his miraculous from him.

“ _ Mon Dieu _ ,” Panoptes curses. He yanks hard on the string of Ladybug’s yoyo. She yelps as it flies out of her grasp and skitters away. Panoptes untangles himself with ease and rises to his feet, springing the yoyo up into his hand. “Now  _ listen,”  _ he orders. “You have no upper hand here. Both of you have already used your powers and are about to time out.”

Chat Noir quickly hides his hands behind his back, as if putting his ring out of sight will make Panoptes forget that there are only two pawprints left. “No, we’re not.” His eyes widen as his ring betrays him with another beep just seconds later. One pawprint left.

Panoptes sighs and continues, “If I wanted to, I could easily follow you and defeat you, but I won’t. That is no longer my intention.” He tosses Ladybug’s yoyo back, and she fumbles it, surprised that he has returned it to her. “Go. Find somewhere to detransform, feed your kwamis, and come back here. We have much to discuss.”

This time the heroes look at each other with alarm. There is a silent conversation between them that Panoptes cannot decipher, though he can recognize that it is happening. After a moment, they both nod, new determination in their eyes. “Okay,” Ladybug says. “We’ll hear you out.”

“But no funny business,” Chat warns. He readies his staff and looks at Ladybug. “Let’s go.”

They both throw Panoptes a distrusting glance before flying off.

He lets out a long sigh of air, leaning heavily against the wall of the building. The fight has taken a lot out of him. His whole body is screaming, especially his head.

And yet, he remembers, Mayura faced much worse. If this is what it feels like to wield the Peacock just once, what torture had poor Mayura faced? And how had she bore it so much better than he?

He shakes his head, clearing the thought. It’s too painful to think about right now.

He tilts his face to the sun, though its rays won’t heal his wounds, and waits.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
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> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)
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> Do you think Ladybug and Chat Noir will really hear him out?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not all goes to plan when Panoptes tries to reason with Paris's heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Panoptes and Swallowtail art! Check out this beautiful piece by beladona-x: https://beladona-x.tumblr.com/post/189795523051/fanart-of-swallowtail-and-panoptes-from-mymayura

🦋

Ladybug returns first, looking very uncomfortable with the situation.

The young heroine refuses to make eye contact with Panoptes, instead looking at her yoyo and then out at the skyline for Chat Noir. Panoptes decides that’s fine. He doesn’t particularly want to make small talk with his ex-nemesis anyway.

Finally, she says, “Chat’s coming,” not looking up from her communicator. Her foot continues to tap impatiently.

Sure enough, Chat Noir leaps up onto the roof a few moments later. “Oh, he’s still here,” the hero comments. “Not gonna lie, I kind of thought this bird was going to fly the coop.”

Ladybug groans. “Not the time, Chat.”

“Okay, okay,” he concedes. He turns his attention to Panoptes. “Okay, gramps, you wanted to talk? Let’s talk.”

Panoptes nods, ignoring the insult. “I know it may not have seemed that way today, but Mayura and I no longer have a common goal.”

“Don’t you mean Swallowtail?” Chat Noir asks.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Ugh, this is too much!” Ladybug cries. She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” She turns to Chat Noir. “Listen, Chaton, I know we agreed to hear him out, but this is ridiculous. Mayura is now Swallowtail? And he’s Panoptes? I can’t — I —ugh! Are we supposed to  _ believe  _ that, for real? This has to be some kind of ploy. It doesn’t make any sense.” Her expression is dark as she turns back to him. “I don’t trust you, Papillon. We’ve recharged, and we can take you down. Give us that miraculous, or face the consequences!”

Panoptes evaluates his options. He could still escape, easily. But if he does, he’s just as far from bringing Nathalie home as before. Maybe even further than when he started, now that she knows he is willing to wield the Peacock.

He is going to need the heroes’ assistance. He has to take the risk and try to reason with them.

“I don’t want to fight. Please,” he insists.

“You’re lying,” she growls.

“Ladybug,” Chat Noir starts, but he doesn’t seem to know what to say next.

“I wasn’t lying last time, and I’m not now. I am many things, but I’ve never been dishonest about my motives,” Panoptes responds.

“Last time?” Chat Noir questions.

“Did Ladybug not tell you?” Panoptes asks. Chat Noir glances at Ladybug, who just shakes her head in frustration. “We worked together to take down a rogue akuma when  _ you  _ didn’t show up. Dejinnerate.” Chat Noir goes pale at the mention of the akuma he failed to help defeat.

“Papillon didn’t do much,” Ladybug counters with a glare. “Mostly, he got in my way and tried to protect Mayura. I’ve been wondering about it since then, and I’m not so sure they weren’t planning to double cross me,” she exclaims. She shoots her yoyo at Panoptes, and he allows her to catch him around the waist. “Miraculous. Now.”

“You must have noticed that Papillon’s attacks have stopped for months!” Panoptes exclaims. Ladybug pauses and Chat Noir seems to consider this as well. “ _ Months.  _ This was not a ruse; I had no plans of resurfacing. But Mayura — _ Swallowtail _ — is ill. I don’t know why she took my miraculous.”

Ladybug is only a foot away from him at this point, but she hesitates in coming closer. He takes a calculated risk and offers out his fan to her, closed, with the feathers pointing towards him.

“I just want to talk. You have my word… and my weapon.”

There is a tense moment where neither of them moves or speaks.

Ladybug finally breaks it. “Fine.” She takes the fan from him and steps back. “Explain.”

“She’s sick,” he says. “Maybe even deathly ill. The Peacock miraculous is broken; it has been for a long time, before she ever became Mayura. It damages its wearer.”

“And you let her use it anyway?” Chat Noir asks, offended. “How could you? Did you know it would hurt her?”

“I did,” Panoptes admits. “However, I did not  _ let  _ her use it, not at first. Besides, I think you’ll find that there’s no ‘letting’ that woman do anything. She’s incredibly stubborn.”

“You said ‘at first,’” Chat Noir challenges. “What changed?”

“I explicitly told her  _ not  _ to use it to begin with; that was Heroes’ Day as you’ll recall.” Ladybug’s brow furrows at this. “She used it anyway, determined to assist me in my moment of need. From there, things spiralled out of control. She was a huge strength as Mayura. It was hard to resist the temptation of having her as an ally, especially when she could be so persuasive. But eventually, the damage got worse. I stopped asking for her assistance and instead begged her to not transform. The last time she transformed into Mayura, to help take down Dejinnerate, I had expressly forbade it.” He shakes his head. “She was very sick after. That was one of many reasons I decided to give up on taking your miraculouses.”

Ladybug’s eyes are wide, burning with the same justice that he’s seen in them before. “That’s beyond cruel,” she accuses. “To let your wife be hurt like that for  _ any  _ time at all… it’s just unthinkable!”

He blinks in surprise as their relationship is again misinterpreted. “Let me clear up this misconception,” Panoptes cuts in. “Mayura is not my wife.”

They gape back at him.

“Okay,” Chat Noir says, recovering. “Your girlfriend, then. It’s a bad look either way.”

“No she — we are not in any way…  _ involved,”  _ Panoptes clarifies. “Do you know why we wanted your miraculouses in the first place? It was to bring my wife, my  _ actual  _ wife who is not Mayura, back from an incurable coma.”

Ladybug blinks rapidly. “That’s it? Not extreme wealth or… ultimate power?”

He laughs humorlessly. “I know I may seem to be a heartless villain to you. But only one of those descriptors is accurate.” His next breath burns his lungs, even more than before. “My actions were wrong, but my intentions — I’m a sentimental man, believe it or not. I only wanted her back. That’s all.”

“Where is she now?” Ladybug asks.

Panoptes swallows the bitterness that rises up. The last thing he wants to do is bare his heart to Paris’s heroes.  _ Say it. For Nathalie’s sake.  _ “Dead. I took her off life support. It would be cruel to keep her alive if there was no way to improve her quality of life.”

“I’m sorry,” Ladybug breathes. Her hands jump to her mouth, as if she’s horrified to have shown any sympathy for her enemy. “I mean—”

“Thank you,” he says, hoping to win her over before she can retract the sentiment. “I miss her dearly.”

“So if you gave up, why are you two now running around as Swallowtail and, what is it? Panoptes?” Chat Noir asks.

“I don’t know exactly what happened,” Panoptes says. “She seemed content with my decision at first. But then, something changed. A month after we laid my wife to rest, Mayura became distressed. She said that quitting was a mistake and that we should continue in our task.”

“So you did!” Chat Noir accuses.

“No,” Panoptes bites back. “I said no. But Mayura couldn’t accept that. She tried to transform, and I took her miraculous from her. She broke down. I’ve never seen her so upset.”

“So that’s what you meant when you said it wasn’t a willing switch,” Ladybug works out slowly.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Chat Noir asks.

“I’m guessing Mayura, well, Swallowtail now — she took your miraculous from you, didn’t she?”

“Yes,” Panoptes confirms. “I protected the Peacock miraculous from her, thinking that she’d try to get it back, as she’s stolen it from me before. I didn’t think she’d steal the Butterfly, but she did. She…” he swallows his pride. “She tricked me. She drugged me and took it off my person when I was unconscious, and you know the rest. When I heard she was sighted, I became Panoptes to try to bring her home.”

“But you teamed up with her,” Ladybug points out.

“No,” he corrects. “I  _ protected  _ her. She’s already so ill; I didn’t want her to get hurt any worse.”

“You fought us,” she protests weakly.

“Not very well,” he points out, “by your own admission.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as the heroes process everything he has told them.

“So if we do help you…” Ladybug starts slowly. Chat Noir’s ears perk up in surprise. “What exactly is it that you want from us?”

“First of all, assistance in capturing her and taking her miraculous. I know you can’t be opposed to that.”

“So you can take it back for yourself?” Chat Noir asks suspiciously.

As much as Panoptes misses Nooroo, he knows he must prioritize Nathalie. Nooroo will be better off without him, anyway. He closes his eyes, making his decision. “No. Give it to the Guardian for all I care. I just want it off of her before she hurts herself even more.”

“And what else?” Ladybug questions.

“She needs help,” Panoptes pleads. “She’s sick, and I fear that being Swallowtail will only make her worse. When we manage to subdue her, she needs the help of the Guardian before it’s too late for her… like it was for my wife.”

Ladybug sucks in a sharp breath and looks to Chat Noir. “That’s asking a lot,” she says.

“I know,” Panoptes replies.

Once again, the heroes silently converse. After a few moments, Chat Noir steps forward.

“Okay,” he says. “We’ll help you.”

“Thank you—”

_ “But,”  _ he continues, “there are conditions.”

“Of course.”

“Give us the Peacock miraculous,” Ladybug says. Panoptes freezes. “Now.” She reaches her hand out, palm up.

Panoptes looks around them, suddenly aware of how exposed they are. “Here?”

“Yes.” Her hand draws closer.

He can’t help it. He leaps back.

Chat Noir gapes at him. “You can’t be serious. We’re willing to help you and you won’t even… are you insane?”

“It’s not what you think,” Panoptes starts, silently cursing his feet for making such an unintelligent move.

“Then give us the miraculous!”

“Please don’t mistake my hesitation for self-preservation,” he jumps to say. “I would not be the one most hurt by my identity being revealed.”

Chat Noir bristles. “Why? Swallowtail won’t like it?”

“I have a son!”

There’s dead silence. Panoptes’s breath catches in his throat. He can’t quite believe how his own voice has betrayed him.

Chat Noir, on the other hand, is breathing heavily. “You  _ what?” _

“I have a son,” he professes. “He’s still just a child. If the world finds out who I am, what do you think happens to him?”

Ladybug quickly retracts her hand, but Chat Noir becomes more agitated. “You have a son, and you’ve done all this? You would take that kind of risk and leave him alone?”

“I was doing it  _ for  _ him,” Panoptes insists. “I’m not a good father; I’m not delusional. He was always closer with his mother. He needed her back. Or at least I thought he did for a long time.”

Chat Noir paces away, tearing at his hair. Ladybug gives an alarmed glance in Panoptes’s direction, and presumably deciding that he won’t flee, follows her partner.

“Chat,” she says. “What is wrong with you?”

“He has a son, Ladybug,” the hero cries. “A son without his mother, and this is what he spends his time on?”

“I know it’s messed up, but we have to think logically, Chat. What’s gotten into you? Are you okay?”

“No!” Chat Noir exclaims. Panoptes thinks he’s not okay himself. Watching Chat Noir’s turmoil causes inexplicable dread to settle in his stomach. “No, I know what it’s like to — to have a mother gone and an absent father. That kid…” He swipes his hands down his face and freezes. “No.”

“What?” Ladybug asks. “What is it?”

Chat Noir turns towards Panoptes. “Your wife. Does your son even know she’s dead?”

Panoptes guiltily thinks of Adrien, totally oblivious to the entire situation. “No.”

Chat Noir shakes his head in disbelief. “What did you even tell him?”

“Chat,” Ladybug cuts in, “where are you going with this?” He waves her off.

“He thinks she’s a missing person. Along with the rest of the world,” Panoptes confesses.

Chat Noir makes an anguished sound, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “No. No, no, no, no, no.”

“Chat?” Ladybug asks. “You’re scaring me.”

“When did this happen?” Chat Noir demands. “When did she ‘go missing?’”

No… it can’t be.

He prays that the sinking suspicion in his own gut is wrong.

“Two years ago.”

Chat Noir stares at him. Tears well up in his eyes and start to fall. “Oh, God.”

“Chat…” Ladybug whispers, touching his arm.

And then Chat Noir says the most dreaded word.

“Father?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> The cat is out of the bag. What happens between father and son now?


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Adrien deal with the aftermath of their identity reveals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more fanart! https://shadowmayura.tumblr.com/post/189835629352/new-fanart-for-mymayuras-fic-throwing-up-these

🦋

_ “Father?”  _ Ladybug exclaims. “Chat, are you  _ sure  _ he’s your father?”

Meanwhile, Panoptes drops to his knees, his last bit of strength leaving him. “No… it can’t be.”

“I’m sure,” Chat sobs. “It’s him. He’s Panoptes. He — he’s Papillon.”

“No,” Panoptes moans. Pressure builds in his chest and throat, tears springing to his own eyes. “It was you this whole time,” he cries. “I’m such a fool.” His tears spill over in choked sobs. “Adrien.”

“Adrien?” Ladybug repeats. Under different circumstances, Panoptes would be surprised that she hadn’t already known her partner’s identity, but at the moment, he can’t bring himself to care. “What — you?” She gasps as the look on Chat’s face confirms it. “Oh,  _ Adrien.” _

Panoptes is at a loss for words. There is nothing he can say to fix this situation, not now that he knows Chat Noir is his own son. As if in the knowledge that the breath he draws in cannot do any good no matter how he tries, the fire in his lungs burns hot again, driving him into a deep, painful coughing fit.

And Chat —  _ Adrien  _ — despite his own pain, despite his horror, rushes to him, touches him without hesitation. “Father! No, what’s wrong?” he yells, gripping Panoptes’s arm. “Ladybug, help!”

“I — I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Adrien!” Another hand lays tentatively on his shoulder, only bringing more attention to the pain radiating through him. “M—Mister Agreste? How do we help?”

The coughing persists, no matter how he tries to answer. He falls onto his hands, bent over as he tries to regain control of his lungs. “It—” he breaks off, hacking horribly, worse than he ever has before. Many seconds pass before he can catch the tiniest bit of breath. “It will pass,” he manages to choke out. “Nothing to do but wait.” He lets out another series of horrible, painful coughs.

“What’s happening?” Chat cries. “Why?”

“He — he said the miraculous is broken, right?” Ladybug asks. “It must be making him sick.”

Chat Noir’s voice is a horrified whisper. “Is he going to die?”

“No,” Panoptes rasps. He suppresses the further coughs hoping to come up. “One wear won’t kill me. I will recover, in time.” He breathes deeply, his body finally allowing it. There is still sharp pain in his lungs, but the coughing ceases. He sits back on his heels, looking up at the son he has unintentionally betrayed. “It could be much worse.”

Chat Noir stares at him, appalled. He finally breaks eye contact and turns to Ladybug, asking “What do we do?” in a small voice. A small voice which, now that Panoptes recognizes it, is painfully familiar. It’s the same voice he uses to ask for permission, ask for forgiveness, ask for help.

Panoptes can see her calculate quickly in her head. “I don’t know, Chat. It’s your father, I can’t — I can’t decide for you.”

_ “Please,”  _ he begs. “At least give me advice. I don’t know what to do.”

“I—” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I think that we should take him to the Guardian. This isn’t something we can decide for ourselves, and he’s hurt. He needs help either way.”

“What else could we do?” Chat Noir asks. “Do we have any other options?”

“We could turn him in,” she says. Chat Noir flinches. “Maybe that’s what he deserves for what he’s done. Even though… he was trying to save your mother. Oh.” She puts her hands over her face. “I don’t know what’s right here. This is far more complicated than either of us expected. Especially with Swallowtail being so sick.”

“Swallowtail! If my father was Papillon, then who was…?” Chat’s eyes widen, filled with fresh tears as he pieces it together. “It’s Nathalie, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Panoptes breathes.

Adrien stands frozen, tears falling as he takes it all in. He looks skywards, shaking his head. Another realization dawns in his eyes as he looks back down. “And Mom… she’s not missing; she’s… dead.” Another tear slides down his cheek. “She has been this whole time, or at least close to it.”

“I’m sorry.” The words are hollow and worthless, and Panoptes knows it.

Chat’s eyes flicker across the horizon, searching for answers. He takes in a deep breath, turning to Ladybug. “Can we take him to the Guardian? Please?”

“Yes,” Ladybug says, as Panoptes breathes a sigh of relief.

“And can we bring him as… as Panoptes? Get him out of sight before…” Chat Noir breaks off, crying once more. “They’re the only family I have left. I know they did awful things, I know, but I can’t lose them. I can’t.”

“Yes. Adrien, it’s okay,  _ yes.”  _ She grabs him by the shoulders. “If you are willing to do that, despite everything he’s done… yes. Whatever you want. Besides,” she says, looking at Panoptes out of the corner of her eye, “I don’t trust  _ him,  _ but I do trust that he won’t try to pull anything on us at this moment.” She raises an eyebrow. “Am I correct, Mister Agreste?”

“Of course,” he says softly, his gaze flicking back to Chat Noir, who now refuses to make eye contact with him. “I’ve done enough damage; I won’t make the situation worse.”

Ladybug nods. “We can figure out the rest when we get to the Guardian. Let’s go.” She reaches out a hand to Panoptes, a grimace on her face. He takes it, allowing her to pull him to his feet and against her side. He has his doubts that the tiny teen can carry him successfully, but he doesn’t think it wise to voice them. Ladybug looks back at Chat Noir. “Follow me.”

“Always,” Chat says, trying to crack a smile, but failing.

He’s a cumbersome weight at Ladybug’s side, but she does manage to swing him across rooftops through the city. It’s a sensation he’s unused to, and that, along with his pounding headache, makes him feel slightly queasy with each swoop.

Finally, they land in an alleyway. “We’re closeby,” Ladybug announces. “We’ll have to warn the Guardian first.” She turns her eyes to her partner. “Chat, do you want to go?”

“No,” he says. “I’ll stay here. With him.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, touching his arm with concern. “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” he assures her. “I want to.” He nods. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” she says. She squeezes his hand and backs away. “I’ll be back soon.” She runs out of the alleyway.

Chat Noir turns to Panoptes. “You can detransform now.”

Panoptes nods. “Duusu, fall my feathers.” The transformation washes over him, leaving Gabriel Agreste in his place. He’d thought it would come as a relief, but it only leaves him feeling weaker and in more pain.

Chats’s brow furrows. “It really is you.” He flinches his gaze away, focusing it on the kwami instead. “Duusu?”

“That’s me!” she squeaks. “You must be Chat Noir!” She stops, mouth hanging open. “Oh no,” she frets, looking at Gabriel. “We got caught!”

“Not exactly,” Gabriel sighs. “Duusu, meet my son, Adrien.”

The kwami’s eyes go as big as saucers. Gabriel would find it comical if not for the circumstances. “Adrien is Chat Noir? Ohhhh no. That’s bad.”

“I am,” Chat Noir confirms. He cocks his head. “Are you really upset that my father’s identity was revealed? Aren’t you happy to be free?”

“No, I love Miss Nathalie!” she insists. “And Mister Gabriel is nice too, once you get to know him. He’s so worried about her. It’s sweet,” she gushes, and Gabriel’s face heats up. “And you, too!”

“Me? Even though—?” He breaks off, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Let’s just wait for Ladybug.”

“Okay,” Duusu says sadly. There is a brief pause. “Aren’t you going to detransform too?”

“No,” Chat Noir says shortly.

“Oh.” Duusu flits around before opening her mouth once more.

“Duusu,” Gabriel hisses before she can speak. “Keep your mouth shut.”

“Don’t be mean to her,” Chat exclaims. “She hasn’t done anything wrong, unlike you.”

“I’m just trying—”

“Well, don’t,” Chat Noir snaps. “You’ve done enough.” He glares at Gabriel, as if challenging him to a fight.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel says instead, even though they both know it’s inadequate.

“Sorry won’t cut it. Not this time.”

“I know,” Gabriel says. He doesn’t push it further.

The rest of their wait is spent in uncomfortable silence, even from Duusu. Finally, footsteps fall around the corner, preluding Ladybug’s return. However, it isn’t Ladybug who comes into the alleyway. Instead, it’s a familiar young girl with twin pigtails. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Oh. Of course.

“M—Marinette?” Chat Noir exclaims, not yet making the connection. “What are you doing? You can’t be here, I mean—”

“Adrien,” she says, and he freezes, lips forming unspoken words. “It’s okay, Chaton, it’s me.”

“Ladybug?” he breathes, not daring to believe it. She smiles softly. “You can’t reveal your identity, not in front of  _ him,”  _ he spits venomously, though he is quickly distracted by wonder of his classmate once more. “Is it really you? You’re Ladybug?”

“I am,” she confirms. “Don’t worry, the Guardian told me to come like this.” She squeezes his hand. “Are—are you okay?” she stammers, a small blush creeping into her cheeks.

“You’ve been so close to me this whole time.”

“I know,” she says. “And there will be plenty of time to talk later. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you have to detransform first. We still don’t want to lead Swallowtail or anyone else to the Guardian by accident.”

Chat Noir stiffens, but he nods obediently. “Claws in.”

Adrien’s kwami, Plagg, Gabriel supposes, spirals out. “Ohhhhh boy,” the little creature says once he takes in his companions. “This can’t be good.”

Gabriel’s focus is fixed on Adrien, however, the visual confirmation stunning him. “It’s not,” Adrien says. “My father is Papillon.”

“What?” the kwami shrieks, and now Gabriel turns to face him. “I’ll cataclysm his face.”

“Plagg, no,” Adrien says, catching him. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, we have to take him to the Guardian.”

Plagg trembles, looking sadly at Adrien. “Alright, kid, whatever you say.” He turns to Gabriel. “But I’ll be watching you.”

“We all will, Plagg,” Marinette says. She turns to Gabriel. “Swallowtail could recognize you transformed or not, so try to keep a low profile. Come on.” 

Plagg zips into Adrien’s shirt as Duusu returns to Gabriel’s. Marinette leads the way, taking Adrien by the hand, and Gabriel follows in the rear. The two teens are true to their word, looking back at him over their shoulders. The kwamis observe him the entire trip.

The journey is not far. They turn just a few corners before stopping in front of an unassuming massage parlour. Marinette knocks on the door, and a few seconds later, a short, elderly Chinese man opens it.

“Ladybug, Chat Noir,” he greets. “Come in.” They step inside. “Ah, Papillon,” the Guardian says, looking him evenly in the eyes. It takes all of Gabriel’s little remaining strength to not wilt under his stare. “I am Wang Fu, Guardian of the miraculous. I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time. Will you join me for tea?”

Gabriel nods, remembering his manners. “I’d be honored.” At Fu’s invitation, he steps inside.

They enter the parlor itself, and Fu shuts the doors behind them.

“Please, have a seat,” the Guardian says. The turtle kwami floats behind him — Wayzz, if Gabriel’s research is correct. “There is much to discuss. But first, tea?”

Gabriel thinks he’s had his fill of tea for a while, after his incident with Nathalie, but there is something in Fu’s words that sounds more like a threat than an invitation. “That would be lovely.”

Thankfully, what is offered to him is standard green tea, no extra surprises.

Still, he can tell that the Guardian’s kindness is a front for something far darker. He can see the mistrust behind his eyes, and the anger at what he’s done. He knows he must tread lightly here.

“So,” Fu says, in that slightly threatening manner, “I have many questions for you, as you might imagine, Mister Agreste. Ladybug filled me in on the main points, but there is still much to touch on.”

“I expected as much,” Gabriel replies. “And please, ‘Gabriel’ will do.”

“Gabriel,” Fu repeats. “Glad to officially make your acquaintance.” Adrien scoffs, but Fu’s eyes only sparkle at the sound. “Well, there is much you’ll have to tell me, but I believe we should start with the main issue at hand. What can you tell me about Miss Sancœur’s illness?”

Gabriel shifts where he sits, wondering where to even begin. “As you’ve likely heard by now, the Peacock miraculous is broken. It’s been this way since before Nathalie ever used it to become Mayura.” He suddenly realizes that he still has the brooch pinned to the collar of his shirt, and he’s honestly surprised that no one has tried to take it from him yet. He unhooks it with his free hand and passes it to Fu. “The more she used it, the worse her condition grew. I tried to keep her from transforming any further, but she continued to use it until she was quite unwell.”

“I see,” Fu comments, turning the miraculous over in his hands. Duusu hovers over him, examining the cracks as he does. “And what exactly are those symptoms? I’ve heard of broken miraculouses before, but never seen the outcome for myself.”

“Quite a few things,” Gabriel says, and an image suddenly springs to mind of Nathalie at her worst — wrapped in a blanket, semi-conscious, with blood smeared across her face. “First it was coughing and general weakness. Then the coughing got worse. Eventually… it came with blood.” Gabriel glances at Adrien just in time to see him flinch. “Once that happened, she would have trouble breathing, and it sometimes made her sick as well. As her illness progressed, she got even weaker. She was prone to dizziness, fainting spells, headaches, nausea, chills… the list goes on and on.”

“That’s quite concerning,” Fu says. “What about yourself?”

Gabriel is taken aback, not having expected to be asked about his own state at all. “It’s so early on. After one wear, my symptoms are nothing compared to hers.”

“But you have them,” Fu prods.

“Yes, of course. Nathalie has endured far worse, but the coughing is quite painful. I felt as if there were barbs in my lungs. And I’m fairly certain the only things keeping me conscious at the moment are adrenaline and caffeine,” he says, punctuating his statement with a sip of tea.

“Anything else? For either of you.”

Gabriel is about to deny it when he remembers one very important detail. “The miraculous cure — Ladybug’s cure. It doesn’t work on her, we think since the very first time she became Mayura. Come to think of it, it probably doesn’t work on me either anymore.”

“And you still let her use it?” Adrien questions incredulously.

“But the Ladybug cure fixes everything!” Marinette exclaims. “Right, Master Fu? That can’t be possible!”

“I can assure you it is,” Gabriel informs her. “I saw it with my own two eyes, multiple times.”

“There is little known about broken miraculouses, Marinette. I don’t believe anything is impossible here,” the Guardian says. He turns his eyes back to Gabriel. “Can you give an example or two?”

“The first time we became aware of it was with Rapunzeler,” Gabriel recalls. “Both of us got caught in the crossfire and hit with her beam. However, when the akuma was defeated and the cure was released, my own hair returned to normal, and hers didn’t.”

“So…” Ladybug starts, confused. “Did it go away when she detransformed?”

“Ah, no. I had to cut it.”

The six other beings in the room, excluding him and Duusu, stare.

“Anyway,” he segues awkwardly, clearing his throat. He opens his mouth to tell them about Dark Cupid, but recalling the entire situation and realizing that he’ll certainly be asked many questions, he decides to skip over that. “The very last time it happened was the most concerning because there was no way to fix it, and it is likely still in effect.”

“What would that be?” Fu asks.

“Dejinnerate,” Gabriel responds. He looks over at Adrien, and his son has turned bright red. “Adrien?”

“I just realized,” Adrien spits. “You  _ akumatized  _ me.”

Gabriel’s automatic instinct is to deny it, but the accusation is entirely true. He bites back his response and instead admits, “Yes. I’m so sorry, son.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry!” Adrien is fuming. “Did you orchestrate that whole situation on purpose? Make me mad intentionally so I could be your next puppet?”

“What? No!” Gabriel says quickly. “What I told you later was the truth; Nathalie was very ill. I wanted our house guest-free and you close by.”

Adrien shakes his head bitterly and looks away.

“Adrien.” He has to dull down the sternness in his voice that automatically pops up in defense of Nathalie’s condition. “Earlier that day, I found her collapsed on the ground, choking on her own blood. It was truly disturbing.”

With that, Adrien snaps back to attention, looking at Gabriel with wide, alarmed eyes.

“You were never my intended target.  _ Ever,”  _ Gabriel insists. Adrien may never forgive him for what he’s done, but he needs to understand, at the very least, that Gabriel never would have willingly used his powers against him. “The original targets’ moods improved, and the akuma went rogue. I know you don’t remember, but I tried to withdraw it as soon as I knew it was you. But I couldn’t. Your hold was too strong, and you broke my connection to you. That’s when I went out as Papillon to stop you myself, and Nathalie followed, against my wishes.”

Adrien closes his eyes and breathes in deep. Marinette lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He’s telling the truth,” she says softly. “Or at least, it matches up with my understanding of events. I ran into him only minutes after you got akumatized, Adrien, and he immediately offered to help. He wanted to save you, even if it  _ was  _ his fault that you were in that situation to begin with. And then, well…”

“Mayura showed up,” Gabriel says. “I tried to protect her, but I failed. She got hit, and you —  _ Dejinnerate  _ seemed absolutely delighted. We ran, afraid of how her wish might manifest and affect the fight.”

“So what was it?” Marinette asks. “The wish, I mean. I never found out.”

“Neither did we,” Gabriel confesses. Six pairs of eyes widen once more. “We spent weeks trying to figure it out, but nothing seemed to change. By the time Nathalie took off with the Butterfly, we still hadn’t figured it out. Or at the very least,  _ I  _ hadn’t.”

“You really had no idea?” Plagg pipes up. “I mean, wow, you’re with the woman every second of every day, and nothing?”

Gabriel purses his lips, finding his son’s kwami quite grating. “We had several theories at first, all disproven almost immediately.”

“So… you think the wish didn’t take?” Marinette questions.

“No, I think it definitely has,” Gabriel responds. “Nathalie was incredibly unstable leading up to this, something I neglected to recognize the severity of until it was too late. I believe her wish is responsible in some way, but I don’t know how that could be.”

“So she hid it from you,” Marinette tries to clarify.

“Possibly, yes,” Gabriel reasons. “Or perhaps she doesn’t know herself. To me, however, that seems less and less likely, especially now that she’s gone rogue.”

“And she didn’t mention anything about what she might want with the miraculouses?” Fu presses.

“She did, but I don’t know how truthful she was being.. She said she wanted to go back to our original goal, to stop my wife from becoming ill in the first place. But I suspect that it’s more than that, that her motivations are tied to more than Emilie. She knows that if she makes the wish, then none of this will have happened. We won’t ever have been Papillon and Mayura, and whatever Dijinnerate did to her will be reversed.” He sets down his empty mug. “Of course, I’m only speculating. As I said, she told me very little directly.”

“Yes, I understand,” Fu says, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I do have one more question for you, Gabriel. I know that the Peacock miraculous was not in this state when I lost it many years ago. How did it come to be like this?”

Gabriel’s breath hitches in his throat. He can’t let Adrien find out this way. “Perhaps we can discuss that at a later time.”

Fu’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “There will be no better time than this.”

Gabriel’s eyes dart unwillingly to Adrien. “In private, then.”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir have put forth a great amount of trust in allowing you here, as have I. I don’t believe you’re entitled to any secrets.”

“Then let me discuss it alone with my  _ son  _ first.”

“Anything you can tell me, you can tell Marinette and Master Fu,” Adrien cuts in with a dark look.

Gabriel turns pleading eyes to each of them, hoping at least one will budge. But Adrien’s glare holds, Marinette shakes her head, and Fu blinks at him in expectation.

There’s a gentle nudging at his arm, and he looks down to Duusu. “Mister Gabriel,” she says, unusually solemn, “I don’t remember at all. Please?”

He sighs, taking the delicate being into his arms for what might be the last time. “This isn’t at all how I wanted this conversation to happen, but very well.” He drops his head and skirts his eyes to the side, unable to make eye contact with anyone, even Duusu. “Emilie broke the miraculous several years ago.”

“Wh — Mom? Is that what made her sick?” Adrien exclaims, jumping to his feet. “You dragged her into all of this to begin with?”

For some reason, this accusation stings Gabriel harder than all the others, and he can’t stop himself from snapping, “I have done many awful things, Adrien, but I won’t take the blame for something that is not my doing. The miraculouses were always your mother’s endeavor, not mine. I didn’t want anything to do with the damn things.”

“She...” Adrien breathes, tears springing to his eyes.  _ “Why?” _

Gabriel sighs.  _ “That  _ is a conversation for another day I think, if you’ll allow it to be.”

Adrien doesn’t respond. Gabriel takes that as permission to skirt around Emilie’s motivations for now.

“As for how the miraculous broke: it was a spell. She was trying to enhance its powers — she believed with the right enhancements it could bend reality itself — but it backfired, damaging the miraculous.”

“And that killed her,” Adrien whispered.

Gabriel shakes his head. “No. The spell damaged the miraculous, nothing more. But by using it while it was damaged, she grew ill, just as Nathalie has. Eventually, it sent her into a coma.”

“But she didn’t know, right?” Adrien pleads. “She didn’t realize the miraculous was making her sick and just kept using it; you pieced that together afterward.”

“No,” Gabriel confesses softly. “She knew.”

Adrien sobs, this time very quick to tears. Gabriel wants nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, but even without a miraculous, Gabriel can sense that Adrien is angry, so angry at him. Marinette wraps her arms around Adrien, but it does little to ease his crying.

“How could she do that?” Adrien cries. “Knowing that she would leave us behind?”

Suddenly, Gabriel feels chills down his spine. Something is wrong. He looks around to see if the others can feel it too, but there is no indication of it. Adrien continues to weep, Marinette comforting him. Master Fu just nods solemnly.

Gabriel looks around the room, searching for the source of his bizarrely-timed distress. He finally catches it as he glances out the window. “Akuma!” he warns jumping to his feet. “Nooroo—” He stops, and shakes his head. “Duusu, spread—” He stops again.

He doesn’t have a miraculous anymore.

He looks desperately to Marinette, who is frozen in fear. “We need to stop it,” he hisses.

She snaps back to life. “Adrien? I’m so sorry, but I need you to calm down.”

Fu is at his side as well. “Center yourself, Chat Noir. Don’t let your pain control you.”

But the akuma continues on its trajectory, melting through the window with ease. A bolt of panic strikes through Gabriel as he looks back at his son. They’re not going to calm him in time. Adrien has been through too much, far more than anyone should have to endure in one day. He is well past his breaking point.

So, Gabriel does the only thing he can think of: he grabs his empty mug off the ground, extends it towards the butterfly, and lets the akuma take him instead.

The feeling that washes over him is familiar, exactly as it was when he became the Collector. He’s suddenly blinded by darkness, and he feels his pain pulse within him. However, he’s aware that this time, his negative feelings are deeper and darker — big gaping wounds for the akuma to exploit. He’ll have to fight hard.

Swallowtail is taking her time to address him. “Swallowtail,” he says, hoping to initiate before he loses his willpower. His head remains quiet. “Nathalie?”

There is a long stretch of silence. Swallowtail doesn’t answer him.

That doesn’t mean that the akuma doesn’t do work of its own. He can sense the powers that the creature wants to give him.  _ Patriarch.  _ He sees flashes of what could be.

_ No.  _ He pushes it down.  _ I won’t do that to Adrien. I will not cause him more pain today. _

He forces himself back to awareness of the real world. The others in the room are shouting, and after a second, his vision catches up to find that all three of them have transformed into their alter egos. Ladybug and Fu — he realizes he doesn’t know the Guardian’s name when transformed — are trying to talk him down. Chat Noir is transformed, but frozen in fear, tears still gliding down his cheeks.

“S—Swallowtail isn’t here,” Patriarch —  _ no, Gabriel, my name is Gabriel  _ — stammers out. “This is the akuma she released in battle earlier; she must not be transformed, possibly not even conscious.” The words tumble out of him, desperate to be said now that they’ve been released.

Their eyes widen as they realize he is aware. “Can you fight it?” The Turtle hero asks.

“I’m trying,” he grits. He pulls at where the akuma has latched onto his soul. It will be hard to detach it from the point of pain it has found. “Be ready; don’t let it get to Adrien. Please.”

“I won’t,” Ladybug promises, yoyo raised and ready.

He slowly separates the akuma from himself, like lifting fingers curled around his heart. Finally, the pinkie is forced to let go, and the akuma loses its grasp, flying out of him.

He sees the yoyo swing out to grab it. And then all goes dark.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
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> So, friends, how are we feeling?


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel wakes up and deals with the consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New works to share! Thewinterunicorn did some beautiful art of Swallowtail: https://buggirl-and-catboy.tumblr.com/post/189940748129/dont-repost-fanart-of-swallowtail-from-mymayura
> 
> And goofygoldengirl made a great playlist inspired by the fic: https://goofygoldengirl.tumblr.com/post/189830663307/a-playlist-for-mymayura-s-fanfic-of-the-same
> 
> I love seeing you guys' fanworks! I now have a collection on AO3 that you guys can submit fanworks of any kind to (well, any kind that AO3 hosts — I believe that's mostly fic and art). I love all of your creations, so if you feel inspired, don't hesitate!
> 
> And as always, enjoy!

🦋

Gabriel wakes up to gentle murmurs and the sensation of something small and warm on his chest. He turns his head and lets out a little moan, becoming aware that he’s lying somewhere on the ground.

In a rush, the memory of his near-akumatization comes to him. He gasps and tries to spring up, only for a pair of hands to keep him firmly on the ground. As he’s pinned down by this set of hands, another waves over him unexpectedly and he flinches, a fearful breath shuddering out of him.

“Mister Agreste,” someone whispers, and a hand moves from his shoulder to grip his own hand. “You have to stay still.”

“But—”

“Shh.” He turns his head to find the source of the sound. He’s surprised to find that it’s Marinette of all people, looking down at him in concern. “You’ll have to be quiet too,” she continues in a whisper. Gabriel gives her a confused look, and she lifts the remaining hand on his shoulder to point up to the other side of him. The hands waving over him belong to Master Fu, who seems to be chanting some kind of spell.

Gabriel turns back to Marinette. He’s curious about what the Guardian is doing, but there is a more pressing matter at hand. “Adrien,” he hisses. “Where is he? Did he get akumatized? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” she assures him. “I caught the akuma before it could infect him or anyone else. He’s just outside getting some air.” Gabriel lets out a relieved sigh and closes his eyes, suddenly aware of how heavy they are. “You did a good job, Mister Agreste.”

He opens his eyes again, looking at her inquisitively out of the corner of them. “The Guardian and even my own son possibly hate me, and not without cause. Do you not, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

She looks surprised to be asked, and she has to fish for the words before she speaks them. “No,” she whispers back. “And I don’t think they do, either.” She bites her lip. “Adrien is hurt, but he’s only hurt because he loves you.”

He can’t help the small swell of bitterness that comes up. “Is this Ladybug’s benevolent compassion-for-all talking?”

She makes an annoyed face. “I think you overestimate what abilities the miraculous gives me. I’m still human.”

“Then why on Earth are you being so kind to me?”

“Well, to start, you saved Adrien today, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

“Who I endangered in the first place through my actions.”

“Oh, there’s plenty you’ve done wrong,” she reminds him with narrowed eyes, “but this one was more of, well, the — the butterfly effect, for lack of a better term.”

“We both know that doesn’t make up for it.”

“Not even close,” she agrees.

“Then why?”

She gives him an even stare. “I don’t think you deserve to know,” she says, withdrawing her hand. Still, she stays by his side, knees curled up to her chest, and her chin resting contemplatively on top. “Maybe I’ll tell you once you’ve earned it,” she says bluntly, but not unkindly.

“You think I can earn it?” he questions.

“For Adrien’s sake, I hope so.”

He accepts that he won’t receive more explanation, and to be honest, he’s not sure he wants it right now, not when guilt and sorrow are eating at him from the inside out. He turns his head away from her to take note of the rest of his surroundings. Tucking his chin to his collarbone, he can see the the small weight on his chest is Duusu, curled up peacefully. The Guardian continues to chant and gesture, occasionally glancing down at a tablet by his side.

Gabriel turns back to Marinette. “What is he doing?”

“Well, he fixed the Peacock miraculous when you were—”

“—Already?” he breathes, surprised. She nods. “It was that easy?”

“He already has the whole Grimoire translated and all ingredients on hand. It’s that simple, well, as long as you have what you need. Which he does.”

“He does, does he?” Gabriel can’t help letting a small chuckle escape him.

“What?” Marinette asks.

“I’m just recalling one of our first meetings, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Of course, now I realize you didn’t take the spellbook from Adrien for your ‘interest in fashion,’ nor did  _ he  _ take it from me out of ordinary ‘curiosity.’”

“Uh, well, no,” she admits. “Though I wasn’t actually the one to take it from Adrien in the first place — I left that part out because I just wanted him to get back to school — it was, uh, Lila. Lila Rossi,” she divulges, a scowl on her face.

“I see.” He frowns, taking note of that. He looks up at Master Fu’s moving hands once more. “So what is the Guardian doing now?”

“Oh! Um, healing you, Mister Agreste. And Duusu, too.”

He is stunned to silence for a moment. “He is? Whatever for?”

“Uh… because you’re sick?”

“No, I’m aware. I meant — one singular wear of the broken miraculous would not kill me.”

“Yes?” she says, and it’s half-question. “But you’d still be sick.”

“Would that not be an appropriate punishment? I would recover, with time.”

She blinks at him. “That would be cruel.”

“But deserved.”

“I don’t think anyone deserves that,” she says firmly.

At that moment, the Guardian lowers his hands and stops chanting. Gabriel turns to him once more, watching as he sits in silence, eyes closed for a moment. Finally he opens them, and looks down at Gabriel.

“The healing is complete,” Fu says. “You can sit up now, if you’d like.”

Gabriel scoops Duusu gently into his hands and sits. She stirs, yawning as she wakes.

“Well?” Fu asks. “How do you feel, Gabriel?”

Gabriel takes a deep breath in, testing his lungs. “I feel normal. Thank you.”

The Guardian lets out a noise of approval, nothing more, before focusing his sights on Duusu. “Duusu. How are you?”

It’s only now that Gabriel realizes she’s very still. The kwami droops, tears in her eyes. “I remember everything,” she says quietly. “How Miss Nathalie got sick, how Miss Emilie died, and even everything before that. All the holders that I’ve ever had.”

There’s a red blur, and Ladybug’s kwami — Tikki — joins Duusu in the cup of his hands to comfort her.

“I’m sorry, Duusu,” Gabriel says. “For everything.”

“I didn’t realize how bad it was,” she cries. “Miss Nathalie is lucky to even be alive. I didn’t understand how the miraculous was hurting her.”

“Don’t cry, Duusu,” Tikki squeaks. “It’s not your fault. And now that you’re better, the Guardian can heal Nathalie! Well, once we find her.”

Duusu sniffles. “Okay.” She snuggles up against Tikki, and Tikki hugs her back.

Fu clears his throat. “If that’s all, then I think our time together has come to an end. Once Ladybug and Chat Noir locate Miss Sancœur, I will heal her, as well.” Fu stands, and Gabriel follows, pleased to find that he is steady on his own feet. “Hopefully, we’ll not meet again, Gabriel.”

“Indeed,” Gabriel says, heart sinking slightly as he realizes that he won’t be seeing Duusu again, who he has honestly become quite fond of in the past week of her companionship. Tikki flies back to Marinette as Gabriel brings Duusu to eye-level. “Goodbye, Duusu.”

Tears well up in her eyes again. “Oh, Mister Gabriel, I’ll miss you!”

“I know,” he says, feeling a pang of sympathy for the small creature, who has gone through so much. “I’ll miss you, too. But now, perhaps, you can have a proper holder once more. A hero.”

She nuzzles up against his cheek before returning to Fu’s side. Gabriel tries not to look back as they finish their goodbyes and leave the parlor.

Adrien waits outside, eyes dry but still red from crying. “Is he better?” he asks, only glancing at Gabriel as he directs the question to Marinette.

“He is,” she confirms, taking Adrien’s hand. “Are you ready?”

Adrien nods.

Marinette looks back to Gabriel. “Adrien is staying at my house for a few days. We’re just coming back with you to pick up some of his things.” It is a statement, not a question.

Gabriel’s heart clenches in his chest. “Are you moving out?” he blurts, feeling as if the entire world is collapsing around him.

“No,” Adrien says, scooting a bit closer to Marinette. “Not right now, anyway.”

“He needs some time away to clear his head,” Marinette clarifies. “That won’t be a problem, will it?” She raises her eyebrow at him.

“No,” Gabriel says, even though it is. “Of course not.” Still, he can’t have expected Adrien to stay immediately after everything that has happened. It’s shocking that he’s considering coming back at all.

He quickly finds out that it’s incredibly lonely, however. The mansion is large and bare, almost unrecognizable with most of its usual inhabitants gone. No Adrien, no Nathalie, not even Nooroo or Duusu to keep him company at his darkest moments. For the first time, Gabriel is truly alone. The only other presence he feels is Emilie’s ghost, lingering around in almost every corner. She’s there in the photos in his bedroom, the statue in the garden, the portrait in the foyer.

One day, in his atelier, he can’t take the weight of her eyes anymore, finding it to be far more isolating than true solitude. He whips around from his desk and pulls the portrait from the wall, bringing it clumsily to the ground, breaking a corner as it goes. He breathes heavily, looking at the painting laying damaged on the ground, and he can’t bring himself to regret pulling it down.

He’s not sure it helps either, however.

Likewise, the news that he diligently keeps up with doesn’t give him much hope. It sometimes seems as if Swallowtail has stepped seamlessly into Papillon’s shoes, taking his place so perfectly as if they had never switched at all, one of the few exceptions being that she is constantly attacking, releasing up to five akumas every day. Still, she and the heroes are locked in that same stalemate with neither ever coming out on top. Even as the secondary heroes come out, Swallowtail is able to fend them off, always escaping when they manage to find her.

That is the main difference with Swallowtail, as opposed to Papillon. Swallowtail finds herself in the open much more often, which Gabriel expects is due to her not having a hidden base to operate from as he had. Though he’s glad that this gives the heroes more chances to catch her, he is worried as well. The difference between Swallowtail two weeks ago and Swallowtail now is notable. Every time she appears, she looks far more haggard than before. The pieces of her costume are beginning to fray, and she is losing saturation; the stoney blues that colored her outfit before have faded to gray, and even her skin looks pale and cold in the photos he comes across, her veins much more visible.

It is a long, lonely week, full of worry. He nearly cries with relief when, at the end of it, the doorbell rings and he finds Adrien standing on the front steps.

He opens the door without a word, allowing Adrien to say what he wants to say. His son sets his bag down once inside, which Gabriel hopes is a good sign, and looks around nervously.

“I’m back,” he says, shrugging unsurely.

“I’m very glad for that,” Gabriel responds. He hesitates. “Are you here to stay?”

“Do you want me to?” Adrien shoots back.

Gabriel sucks in a breath. “Of course I do. I’ve missed you terribly.”

Adrien nods, not meeting Gabriel’s eyes. Still, he says, “I’ll stay. But we need to have a talk.” He finally looks at Gabriel, piercing his eyes with his own. “I have two conditions: The first is when I’m ready, you’ll take me to see Mom’s grave. The second is that I’m only staying if you tell me everything. No more secrets.”

Gabriel takes a deep breath, gathering strength. “Okay, son. No more secrets.” He leads him into the dining room so they can talk.

He considers taking his normal seat, but it doesn’t feel right, not now. Instead, he invites Adrien to sit first. Adrien looks at him inquisitively as he takes his old seat at his end of the table. But Gabriel will not have that distance again. Adrien’s eyebrows raise as Gabriel crosses the room to sit next to him, effectively making Adrien’s place the head of the table.

He is apologetic. Submissive.

He hopes it’s enough.

“What do you want to know?”

Adrien bites his lip. “I think I understand everything there is to understand about Papillon, and why you did it. Even if I hate every part of it. But with Mom… there’s so little I know.” He draws himself up taller. “I want you to tell me how she got involved with the miraculouses. And why. Everything about it.”

Gabriel clasps his hands on top of the table. “I don’t know everything about it myself. But I will tell you all I know, if you really want to hear it. Some of it may be painful, Adrien.”

Adrien nods. “I know. But I can’t be in the dark anymore.”

Gabriel furrows his brow, decision made. “Your mother knew of the miraculous before we ever met,” he begins. “By the time we were dating, she already had an astoundingly vast knowledge of them. You’ll recall that she was always fascinated with the supernatural world. I had to stop her from telling you ghost stories when you were a child because you’d get scared.”

Adrien cracks a small smile. “I remember that. The one about the man trapped in the attic was always the worst.”

“And one of her favorites,” Gabriel says, shaking his head fondly. “So I suppose it came from there. Her father, your grandfather, had been an anthropologist, and her mother an explorer of remote locations. Together, they had studied a bizarre account of an old Tibetan temple that had burned to the ground a century before. Naturally, she took interest.”

“The temple that Master Fu trained at.”

“I’d imagine so, yes. When her parents died, she inherited their research documents. Although they had hit a dead end many years before, Emilie was obsessed with the miraculous. It was the only passion she had that could compare to her passion for acting. I accepted it — no,  _ loved  _ her for it, even though I couldn’t completely understand. Eventually, after we were married, but before you were born, she begged me to accompany her to the ruins, and I obliged.

“We explored the area for several days. We had just about given up, when Emilie saw a sparkle in the snow a good distance away. I believed it to be a trick of the light, but she was convinced it was something. And it did turn out to be something. It was the Peacock miraculous.

“She fell in love instantly. It was hers from the moment she saw it. She put it in her pocket, and we began to dig, hoping to find anything else before we departed. We dug for about an hour, and in that time, we found the Grimoire and the Butterfly miraculous.

“I thought it was enough that we had found them. I had no interest in magic and had always felt that while the supernatural was fascinating, it was not to be trifled with. But this was Emilie’s dream. She put both miraculouses on and spoke with the kwamis. She didn’t have much interest in the Butterfly miraculous, but she was instantly taken with the Peacock’s powers. She gave the Butterfly to me, but I was adamant that I had no reason to use it and would never put it on.”

“Never?” Adrien questions. “You weren’t even curious?”

“I suppose I was, but the risk seemed to outweigh the reward. By this time, she was pregnant with you, we were happy together, and I had managed to build a thriving business. What could the miraculous give me that I didn’t already have?”

“So  _ she  _ wasn’t happy,” Adrien challenges.

“I wouldn’t say that. We were still newly married and very much in love, and soon we had you. She loved you instantly; we both did, and we were happy, Adrien.  _ Very  _ happy. But you have to understand that the miraculous had been something she worked long and hard for, and the powers delighted her. She was a creative spirit, and the miraculous gave her creatures to play with. Her craft grew significantly in that time; she always had a scene partner to practice with or a director to give her notes. It wasn’t long after that when she landed her first major role in a play, which set off a series of events that later led to her being cast in  _ Solitude.” _

“So what changed?” Adrien asks quietly, looking down at his hands. “When did that all start being not enough?”

Gabriel sighs. “I don’t think it was one definitive event. Nor was it that we weren’t good enough. She was a woman who always wanted more; that was apparent from the day I met her, and it was part of what made her so special. Your mother got restless easily when things stayed the same for too long.

“She had been studying the Grimoire for over thirteen years at that point, and she believed that although she was having trouble translating it, she had found a spell to enhance the powers of the miraculous. She thought that if she succeeded, she’d be able to create entire universes.”

Gabriel hesitates, wishing he didn’t have to divulge the darker side of the events that had passed. “We had our first real fight over that. We were both hot-headed, and we had had little spats before, but it was nothing compared to this. She didn’t speak to me for days. This would change everything, she said. It was what she had dreamed of as a little girl. And I wanted to take that away from her.

“Eventually… she wore me down. The spell required two to cast it, and my refusal stood directly in the way of her dream. She reminded me of how much she had done for me early in our relationship, when my business was new and struggling. She had helped me with my passion, so how could I deny her hers?

“Duusu begged us not to do it, and I wish nearly every day that we had listened. She said that Emilie’s translation didn’t seem correct and that she wasn’t even entirely sure that the spell was meant to enhance the miraculous’s powers. Emilie insisted that we go ahead anyway.”

Adrien shakes his head bitterly. “You should have said no.”

“I know. But she was terribly persuasive, and I was tired of fighting. I wanted her to like me again.” Adrien’s head snaps up. “Make no mistake, we still  _ loved  _ each other, but I don’t think she  _ liked  _ me very much during that time. I missed her. I wanted her back. It was enough to sway me to make a very stupid decision.

“Of course, the spell was incorrect, and it backfired. I was the one closest to the brooch, and the effects of the spell made me ill for weeks.”

“I remember that!” Adrien exclaims. “She said you had a really bad case of the flu. You were sick for almost a month.” He stares off into the distance, reconciling the new version of events in his head. “I can’t believe it was because of the miraculous. I remember Mom got sick right as you were getting better. She said she caught it from you. And then… she disappeared. Only a few weeks later.”

“While I was ill, she continued to use the miraculous,” Gabriel explains. “When I was finally well enough to get out of bed and no longer delirious with pain, I found that  _ she  _ was very sick from it. I insisted that she not use it anymore, or at the very least, switch to the Butterfly, but she refused. She wasn’t interested in what the Butterfly could do and she was addicted to the Peacock’s power.”

“So you should have taken it from her!” Adrien bites, jumping to his feet. He begins to pace. “That’s what you did with Nathalie; why didn’t you think to do it with Mom?”

“I certainly  _ did  _ think to do it. I took it from her. She blew up at me immediately. She told me that I was ruining everything and I would tear our family apart. That if I didn’t return it to her, she would find a way to get it back anyway, and she would leave me and take you with her.”

Adrien stops his pacing. “She would do that?” he hisses. “Over a fucking miraculous?”

“She was sick, Adrien.”

“No, she was  _ selfish.  _ She wanted to break our family up because you took away what was essentially a toy to her!” He fumes, hands curling tight into fists. “Then what happened?”

“I gave it back,” Gabriel sighs, dropping his head. “I believed her when she said she would get it back somehow. She absolutely would have. I recognized that whatever the miraculous did to her, it would happen either way, but I would rather keep us together for as long as possible than lose her even sooner.”

“And then?”

Gabriel looks at Adrien, and he feels the weight of the story pressing on him. “You know what happened next, I think. She got very ill very quickly. It wasn’t like Nathalie, who used it sparingly over a long period of time. Your mother was always wearing the brooch and she transformed at least once every day. The illness took her within a month.”

“God,” Adrien chokes, bringing a hand to his eyes. They remain dry this time, but he looks quite distressed.

“The day before she slipped into a coma, when she was very weak, she said she had something for me,” Gabriel continues, letting out a humorless laugh. “It was the Butterfly miraculous that I hated so much, the one she had always meant to be for me. She explained to me what else she had learned in her study of the Grimoire — that the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses could be used in tandem to grant any wish. And she made me promise that no matter what, I’d find a way to bring her back.”

Adrien crosses his arms. “And that’s why you became Papillon.”

“Yes. I wrestled with it for several months, but eventually I gave in. I couldn’t break my promise to her.”

“You did though,” he pushes. “Eventually. Why?”

“Because of you, mostly,” Gabriel says. “And because of Nathalie, as well. I tried three times to give it up. The first was back in that first year, when you had only just turned fourteen, after I akumatized Audrey Bourgeois and inadvertently put you in danger. But then Chloe used the Bee miraculous, and seeing that opportunity, I thought it was a sign to continue.” He shakes his head. “The next time was this past year, the last time that I akumatized Dark Cupid.”

“Kim,” Adrien says. “His name is Kim.”

“Kim,” Gabriel corrects. “You were so conflicted after you kissed Miss Dupain-Cheng. It was a different kind of pain, one that didn’t go away with Ladybug’s cure. I felt terribly regretful for putting you in that position. And on top of that, Nathalie was… hurt,” Gabriel says, being purposefully vague. “Her injuries were mild, thankfully, but they didn’t disappear with the cure, and I realized for the first time just how much danger she was in, too.

“And you know the last one, the akuma that got me to stop entirely. For good.”

“Me,” Adrien says.

“Yes.” Gabriel answers. “I’m sorry.” He knows that this apology, like all the others, is inadequate, but he can’t stop it from slipping out.

Adrien growls in frustration and rubs his forehead. “So pretty much what you’re telling me is Mom was extremely selfish and vain, and she’s the one who put us all in this mess to begin with.”

“No,” Gabriel protests. “That’s not—”

“—But it is! It is,” he interrupts. He turns his head toward the ceiling. “Couldn’t I have had just one normal parent who wasn’t messing with magic not meant for them and just  _ parent  _ me? Both you and her — no, all  _ three  _ of you if you count Nathalie — you should have known better! And your fifteen-year-old son shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you that!”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want any of this!” Adrien continues. “Like it wasn’t bad enough to be raised in the public eye, have endless expectations put on me, and have no semblance of a normal life. I — I even had to call you ‘Father’ like some stuck-up jerk instead of ‘Dad,’ like everyone else.”

Gabriel cocks his head in surprise. “Do you want to call me ‘Dad?’”

“Ngk—” Adrien chokes, eyes going wide. “Not anymore! God, the fact that you think  _ that’s  _ the root of the problem shows just how out-of-touch you are. It’s too late, okay? It’s too late.”

It’s been a hellish week for Gabriel. His protective layers are worn down. It’s no great surprise when something delicate inside of him snaps as he looks at his son’s furious expression and is told that horrible truth. He barely has time to jerkily lower his face into his hands before tears spring to his eyes. Within moments, he is shaking with silent sobs that he can barely keep under control.

“F—father?” Adrien asks. Gabriel cannot answer. After a moment, he hears Adrien’s chair dragged out so he can sit in it. Adrien’s hand wraps around his sleeve. “Father.”

“Is it really?” Gabriel asks, laying down his fogged up glasses. His vision is poor from tears and lack of corrective eyewear, but he can still see that Adrien’s face shows concern and confusion. “Is it too late?” Adrien draws back, taking on a contemplative expression. “I’ve lost so much. I know it’s my own fault, I know I deserve what has come my way, but I can’t — I can’t lose you, too.” He rubs his eyes wearily, feeling as if his very soul has drained out of him.

Adrien sucks in a breath. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he says quickly. “It’s not too late; I was angry.” He stops, then corrects, “I  _ am  _ angry. I’m absolutely furious at you. Yes, for being Papillon, but even more than that, for hiding this from me for too long.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” he says. “And I  _ don’t  _ forgive you. I don’t think I can. Not yet. But I can’t lose you, either. I love you, Father, even if this whole situation is beyond messed up.”

“I love you,” Gabriel whispers. “I’ve been awful, I’ve been cruel, I’ve been idiotic, but I love you. If there’s one thing that I understand, it’s that I don’t deserve to have a son as wonderful as you.”

There’s stillness for a moment. Then, Adrien rises from his chair and expectantly waits for Gabriel to do the same. Once Gabriel has risen, Adrien surprises him by throwing his arms around him.

“I hate you a little bit,” Adrien mumbles into Gabriel’s chest.

“We have a common hatred then,” Gabriel says back.

“Good,” is Adrien’s reply, tinged with the slightest bit of laughter. They separate. “I don’t want to be mad at you. I don’t  _ like  _ being mad at you. So please, give me a reason to not feel like this anymore, because it’s an awful feeling.”

“I’ll do my best,” Gabriel promises. “I know it will take time to rebuild what I’ve broken. In the meantime… would you like to have dinner together tonight?”

Adrien nods, looking serious, but lighter. “That sounds like a good place to start.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel wants to be more proactive in bringing Swallowtail home.

_Call it tragic, call it love._

🦋

If Gabriel had been told half a year ago that he’d at some point have Ladybug and Chat Noir unmasked, sitting at his table calmly discussing strategy, he’d chalk it up to delusion. But here he is. 

Gabriel hadn’t originally been included in these talks, but Adrien had come to him with a sheepish expression and said that he and Ladybug had not been getting much of anywhere, and that maybe the former Papillon’s expertise would help to give them an edge. Gabriel had been surprised, but grateful. It was hard to do nothing while Swallowtail continued to evade the heroes, and Adrien was on the front lines constantly.

Adrien sits at the head of the table, as is custom now, with Marinette to his right. The seat to the left of him remains open with the understanding that that is Nathalie’s place. Gabriel sits next to her empty chair, wishing she was there with them.

“I don’t get it,” Marinette says to Gabriel. They’ve been hashing this out for far too long, and all of them are feeling frustrated and a bit hopeless. “When you were Papillon, you rarely released more than one akuma per day, if even that. And you almost never came into public, not unless it was necessary. Why is she appearing at almost every fight?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel says. He rubs his temples. “I’m bewildered as to what her strategy could be. At first I thought it was a mistake — that she kept appearing in public simply because she didn’t have a home base to retreat to. After these two weeks, however, it’s impossible not to notice a pattern. She’s doing it purposely.”

Adrien shakes his head. “It just doesn’t make sense. She’s vulnerable to attack that way. She’d have better luck hiding out.”

“But it gives her extra muscle,” Marinette points out. “There’s a reason that we’re having so much trouble with her! We have to fight an akuma  _ and  _ Swallowtail on top of it!”

Gabriel stares at his clasped hands, deep in thought.

“Father?” Adrien asks.

Gabriel frowns. “She’s fighting like she has nothing left to lose. For whatever reason, she wants this to be over quickly.”

“Was she like that before?” Marinette asks.

Gabriel shakes his head. “She was always a little bit impatient and stubborn, but nothing like this. She’d push me to let her be Mayura sometimes, but she never suggested that we leave the mansion more often or increase the akumas.”

“She’s desperate,” Adrien says. “But why?”

Gabriel’s brows raise. “I wish I could tell you.” He squares his shoulders. “What I  _ can  _ tell you is that you need to change your approach somehow. If you keep doing the same thing, you’ll never catch her.”

“Oh, questioning our abilities, Mister Agreste?” Marinette asks with a raised brow.

“Wha —  _ No,  _ that’s not what I—”

“What do you suggest?” she asks, eyes twinkling with mischief.

He’s sure the displeasure reads on his face for her teasing him, but he brushes it off. “Mere numbers aren’t going to do it. I’ve noticed you actually have worse outcomes when bringing in your support heroes. They get easily distracted since they can’t know the full situation.”

“We haven’t had much luck with just the two of us, either,” Adrien sighs.

“What should we do then?” Marinette asks. “I don’t think Chat and I are enough.”

“Well…” Gabriel says, hesitating. He knows this is a risky proposition. “You need to throw her off guard. I think you should let me accompany you.”

All the air is sucked out of the room. Adrien breathes, “Like, with a miraculous?” His expression is murderous.

“No,” Gabriel says quickly. “That’s not what I meant at all, and frankly, I’m not sure it would achieve what we need it to. If I did that, I’d just be a new hero to her. But you saw how shocked she was to see me as Panoptes. It wasn’t the miraculous that elicited that reaction; it’s that she knew who I was underneath.” He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. “It needs to be someone she’s close to, who can get an emotional response. It can’t be Adrien because he needs to be Chat Noir. That leaves me.”

Adrien shakes his head. “No way. It’s too dangerous. You can’t go up against Swallowtail as a civilian.  _ Or  _ with a miraculous because frankly, that’s not happening.”

“Adrien...” Marinette starts, taking his hand. “He has a point. Maybe we should let him try.”

At that moment, there is a buzz from each of their phones. An akuma alert.

“Well,” Gabriel says. “I suppose you’ll have to decide quickly, then.”

Marinette gives Adrien a pleading look. Adrien sighs, closing his eyes. “Fine. He comes as a civilian.”

So, for the first time, Gabriel gets to accompany them, held tight against Chat Noir as they fly across Paris. He vastly prefers this method of travel to the yoyo, but his heart still jumps in his chest a few times as the baton propels them further than expected.

“Stay here,” Ladybug orders once they finally reach the scene. “Swallowtail usually sticks around until after the akuma is defeated to see if she can get our miraculouses in the countdown. Once we capture the akuma, that’s your cue to distract her.” She and Chat Noir run out, leaving him to peek out from his hiding place and watch the battle.

There’s no sign of Swallowtail yet. The akuma is in plain sight however, and she draws his eye like a beacon. She is entirely pearly white, down to even her pupils and tongue. It’s an appropriate look, as he quickly learns that she is called “White Out.”

“I’m here to retract mistakes,” she growls at the heroes. “And you’ve just made a big one!” She lunges at them, but they thankfully dodge her attack, leading her to make contact with a car instead. Gabriel watches in horror as the entire vehicle slowly becomes white and then dissolves into thin air.

She better not get close to his son.

The heroes hop around, dodging her as they try to discover where her akumatized object is. Throughout, they learn other little details about her; namely that she’s looking for control after an impossible situation that went sideways. Still, they can’t find where the akuma lies, and unfortunately, they can’t try different objects when even the slightest touch could dissolve them.

And then Gabriel sees her. Swallowtail.

She looks worse than he’s ever seen her. Her hair, how a bluish gray, has fallen out of its ponytail and instead, frames her face in untamed waves. Several frayed ribbons stick out from it like broken butterflies.

The wings around her eyes are also looking worse for wear, and her skin has gone quite pale. It is practically translucent, the veins showing boldly through now. Her clothing is nearly entirely gray, causing her to look even more washed out, and the previously neat wings of her dress are no longer uniform and pretty. They are frayed and tangled, floating out from her body like static-charged fabric.

It doesn’t take long for Chat Noir and Ladybug to notice her, and they split up to fight their two foes. To Gabriel’s relief, Ladybug deals with White Out while Chat Noir faces off with Swallowtail. But Swallowtail fights back with startling ferocity. Although she looks worn out in appearance, she fights as if she has reserves of energy to spare. Gabriel wonders whether it  _ would  _ be safer for Chat Noir to battle White Out instead.

But for all she gives in that initial burst of energy, Swallowtail seems to wear down just as quick, barely holding her own against Chat Noir after several minutes pass. White Out, however, is still going strong, and she steps in in defense of Swallowtail when she cannot protect herself.

Ladybug takes on a new approach. “I thought you wanted control,” she says to the akuma, seeing that Swallowtail is where their opening lies.

“I do,” White Out says. “I  _ have  _ it.”

“Do you really, though?” Chat Noir jumps in, catching on. “Swallowtail is really the boss. If you ask me, she’s  _ erasing  _ your achievements.”

“Let us take care of her,” Ladybug suggests. “Then you can have total control.”

White Out’s eyes narrow as she considers their suggestion. “You’re right,” she says, and Swallowtail takes a fearful step back. “But I don’t need your help to do it, Ladybug and Chat Noir.” The heroes’ shoulders raise in alarm, and Gabriel feels his own doing the same. She turns to Swallowtail. “I’ll get rid of this problem myself.”

“No, don’t—!”

“Wait!”

Gabriel’s heart is racing. The heroes are advancing, hoping to talk White Out down, but he can’t allow them to fail. Nathalie no longer wears the Peacock miraculous, but she isn’t yet healed. They have no idea of whether the Ladybug cure will work on her again.

If it doesn’t, she could disappear. Forever.

White Out comes close to her, reaching out her hand. “No!” Gabriel shouts, leaping forward. He skids in front of Swallowtail, falling closer as a hand makes contact with his back.

He’s instantly frozen in place.

“Gabriel,” Swallowtail breathes, her eyes widening with shock. “Gabriel, no!”

Somewhere behind him, he thinks he hears “Lucky Charm!” but his senses are starting to fail him. It’s all he can manage to keep his full attention on Swallowtail.

“Why did you do that? No!” Swallowtail screams, cupping his face desperately. He can hardly register the sensation of her hands on his cheeks. Her eyes dart downwards, watching as white creeps up his body. She looks back to his eyes, hers filling with tears. “Gabriel, no.  _ No.  _ It would have been fine, it would have been better than—”

“No,” he manages to breathe out. He can’t feel his feet anymore, and he suspects they’re already gone. “We can’t lose you.” Her eyes widen. “Come home, Nathalie. Please, come home.”

“I can’t,” she whispers back, tears streaming down her lovely face. “I can’t, I’m so sorry; I never meant for this to happen. No, don’t go. Please,  _ please  _ Gabriel, don’t go!” Her hands fall through him. “No!”

Everything goes white.

Suddenly, as if no time has passed at all, he finds himself on his back, the world in color once more. Chat Noir stands over him, eyes wide.

“You idiot!” Chat fumes. “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that if I didn’t do something, Nathalie could disappear forever.” Gabriel sits up, gingerly testing his limbs. Everything seems to be in order.

“We could have handled it ourselves!”

“Then it’s even better that I stepped in,” he says, looking sharply back up at Chat Noir. “I’d much rather it be me than you.”

Ladybug swings in. “I took the victim home; it wasn’t far.” She looks down at Gabriel with concern. “Are you okay, Mister Agreste?”

“I’m fine,” he assures them. “Nathalie, she didn’t get hurt, did she?”

“No, thankfully,” Chat sighs.

“But you didn’t catch her either.”

They shake their heads solemnly.

Gabriel sighs. “This was… less than ideal. But perhaps with better planning and a less destructive akuma, we can get better results next time.”

“There is no next time,” Chat Noir exclaims. “You  _ died,  _ Father. It was a bad idea to begin with, and we’re not doing it again.”

“This is the closest we’ve ever come to bringing her home,” Gabriel argues. “If we had even one more chance, we might finally save her.”

“Ladybug and I will find a way,” Chat instists. “But you are not coming with us again.”

“Chat,” Ladybug says.

He groans. “Please don’t tell me that you’re considering letting him come next time.”

Ladybug’s earrings beep, and his ring follows.

She grabs Chat’s wrist. “Let’s go transform back and talk, okay?”

Chat Noir’s face is painted with a displeased expression, but he allows Ladybug to drag him to a nearby alley.

“We’ll be back soon,” she promises Gabriel before disappearing around the corner.

Gabriel can’t hear the majority of the conversation, but from what he can pick up on, Marinette seems to be on his side. Every now and then, Adrien interjects with “No!” or “Are you kidding? We can’t do that!”

When they return from around the corner, Adrien doesn’t look quite as upset, but he does seem wary.

“Well,” Gabriel asks, “what will it be?”

“It’s not fully decided yet,” Marinette says cryptically. “You two go ahead,” she instructs. “I’ll keep you updated!” She runs off to God knows where, leaving Gabriel and Adrien behind.

Gabriel sighs, accepting that he’ll just have to wait. “Come, Adrien. Let’s go back to the house.”

There isn’t another akuma attack that day. Or the next. Gabriel fears the worse; that Swallowtail’s body has finally given out, leaving her in a deep sleep, or even worse.

Finally, though, two days later, he sees an akuma alert on his phone. Adrien runs downstairs, not yet transformed.

“The akuma is far from here,” Gabriel points out, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as a text from his older sister pops up over the alert. “You should get going, Adrien.”

“Ladybug told me to wait,” Adrien says with a grimace. “Which means she got her way.”

“Oh?” Gabriel perks up, putting his phone aside. He doesn’t know exactly what the young heroine is planning, but from what he gathered from last time, it doesn’t leave him out of the loop.

Not long after, the doorbell rings, though he’s not sure why Marinette even bothers; before he can even enter the front hall to open the door, she rushes in. To his surprise, she approaches him directly, coming to stop in front of him.

Her expression reads as anxious, but also determined. She bites her lip, gathering courage for whatever she’s about to do. She glances at Adrien, who sighs and gestures for her to go ahead.

She nods and reaches into her pocket, and when she pulls her hand out, her fingers are curled around a small black box.

With a jolt, Gabriel realizes that it holds a miraculous.

“The Peacock?” he asks in awe, shocked that he’s being trusted with a miraculous after his history of abusing them.

“No,” Marinette says, rubbing her thumb along the lid. There’s a slight smile on her face. “Something new.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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Easy question this week: What miraculous do you think Gabriel is being given?


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets the chance to be a hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note for my readers — I started planning and writing this fic before the last few episodes of season 3 were released. Because of this, this chapter features a canon miraculous with non-canon powers. I hope this isn't too jarring for anyone, but I liked the design and the powers enough that I felt it warranted keeping them the way I had planned.
> 
> So expect to recognize the miraculous and the kwami. But please be aware that the transformation phrase and powers will be different.

🦋

“Gabriel Agreste.” Marinette opens up the little black box, and sure enough, there is a miraculous inside. It is a necklace, unassuming in its appearance as a simple gray disk. Gabriel wracks his brain, attempting to determine what it could be. He recognizes it from the Grimoire a split second before Marinette announces, “Here is the miraculous of the Mouse, which grants the power of stealth. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done, you will return the miraculous to me.” She raises an eyebrow. “Do you accept?”

His sharp intake of breath chills his teeth. “No,” he stammers, glancing at Adrien, who is standing stiffly to the side. “No, I can’t. I can’t do it.”

Marinette furrows her brow at him. “Mister Agreste. You wanted to be involved, and this is the best way. Master Fu is nervous about it, but even he agrees. If you want to help us save Nathalie, you need to take the miraculous. We can’t bring you to a battle defenseless again.”

“This defeats the purpose,” he points out. “The reason I came in the first place was so she would see me as Gabriel. If you’re going to give me a miraculous, you might as well just pick someone more deserving.”

“That hasn’t worked for us so far,” she argues back. “Because we need to use discretion, our team is going in unprepared and uninformed. We need someone who understands the situation. And besides, I think at this point Swallowtail will recognize that it’s you. Now that you’ve confronted her twice, she’s sure to recognize the pattern.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “As flattered as I am, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Marinette demands. “With all due respect, we don’t have much time, and I thought you’d want to help from all your whining about it!”

Gabriel decides to ignore her last jab, instead focusing his attention on Adrien. “My son doesn’t want me to.”

“What?” Adrien exclaims, startling. “Hey, don’t put this on me!”

“ _ Do  _ you want me to do this?” Gabriel asks, raising a brow.

“Well,” Adrien sputters. “No. No, I’d rather you never touch a miraculous again.”

“Adrien,” Marinette groans, but Gabriel remains firm.

“I thank you, Miss Dupain-Cheng, but I must decline.” He pushes the lid closed. “How Adrien feels about it comes first. I won’t push what little trust left he has in me.” With that, he turns and strides away. He pats Adrien on the shoulder as he exits. “Be safe, son.”

“Wait,” Adrien says, as he’s almost out of the room.

Gabriel turns to look at him inquisitively.

Adrien sighs and walks over to Marinette. She gives him a small smile as he opens the box back up and removes the necklace from it.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asks.

Adrien wordlessly approaches him, holding up the necklace. Slowly, astonishedly, Gabriel lowers his head and allows Adrien to clasp the miraculous around his neck. He waits for him to explain.

“I don’t want you to do this,” Adrien says, “but I do  _ need  _ you to. I don’t think we can do this without you.”

For a moment, Gabriel is stunned speechless. “Well, then,” he finally says. “I’ll be sure not to abuse your trust.”

“Good,” Marinette says, already in Ladybug-mode. “Let’s go, then. Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

Gabriel turns to the Mouse kwami, who has been listening silently since the necklace was put on him. “Hello,” Gabriel greets.

“Hello,” the kwami says back. “I’m Mullo!”

“Gabriel,” he introduces with a small nod.

“Hello, Gabriel! Are you familiar with my powers?”

“I am,” he says. His knowledge of the Grimoire, combined with that Nooroo has told him, does the trick.

“In that case, go ahead and transform!”

“Mullo,” he calls, “scurry forth!”

Light washes over him, bringing new powers with it. Immediately, he feels different from his previous transformations. Papillon and Panoptes had felt like raw power, and at times, even too intense, but this is new. As the Mouse, he feels light and energized, not burdened and weighed down as he had in the past. He feels centered.

He looks down. His costume reflects the feeling of his powers. It is a light spandex-like material that almost leaves him feeling bare in comparison to his previously more structured outfits. The base color is gray, with black accents on his torso and lower legs and light salmon on his hands, down the sides of his legs, at the tips of his toes, and in a small crest on his chest. He also has a jump rope in the same color tied at his waist.

Reaching up, he feels for his mask. It is small, much like Ladybug’s, covering only the immediate area around his eyes. He reaches higher, immediately feeling his face heat up as he notices his hair falling loosely and unstyled on his head, topped with mouse ears. He quickly drops his hands.

“What should we call you?” Chat Noir asks.

“Mulot Gris,” he answers. It’s straightforward and to the point. He has a job to do, and it needs to be done with the most professionalism possible. Regardless of the extra accessories atop his head.

He looks down to the jump rope tied around his waist. “I suppose this is meant to be my method of travel?” he questions, holding it up. “How fortunate,” he comments drily. He’d been hoping for some manner of baton or staff instead.

“You’d be surprised what an unconventional object can do,” Ladybug says, holding up her own yoyo. “It looks like you’ll be traveling like me!”

“Wonderful,” he says, even though it’s anything but. Thankfully, it turns out that swinging with his own jump rope, which is surprisingly stretchy, is not nearly as fear-inducing as being carried by Ladybug as she swings wildly through the streets.

Mulot Gris lets Ladybug and Chat Noir take the lead, and he continues to let them make the decisions as they finally find the akuma. He steps up, defending the heroes as they come up with a plan, and once they do, he activates his powers exactly as instructed by Ladybug, making sure to follow her instructions to a T. The akuma is quickly defeated.

Swallowtail doesn’t show up.

Nor does she show up the next ten times over the course of about a week. Gabriel thinks he sees her once on the top of a faraway building, but the next chance he has to look up, she is no longer there.

Nonetheless, Gabriel is surprised to find that he makes a decent member of the team. Ladybug and Chat Noir certainly come out of the battles less worn down with the extra muscle. There is a sense of wary — well, he doesn’t want to call it “trust.” Perhaps “reliance” is the better term. Either way, the heroes seem a bit on edge, but every time there is an akuma, Ladybug still comes to him with the Mouse miraculous in hand, and Chat doesn’t stop her. Gabriel makes sure to not push his luck. He is extra obedient and agreeable, even if it drives him half-mad.

But the akumas start to slow. The first half of the week brings seven of the eleven total akumas. The second half brings only four.

“Is she quitting?” Adrien muses after a full day without akumas. “It could be, right?”

“But then why hasn’t she come back?” Gabriel poses back.

“Maybe she’s worried that we’ll be mad? I mean, I  _ am  _ mad, but I still don’t want her out there on her own.”

Gabriel lowers his head into his hands wearily. “I don’t know, Adrien. I worry that she’s wearing down, but won’t quit.”

“There has to be something else we can do,” Adrien says, but neither of them seem to know what that could be. “I’ll talk to Ladybug. I’m sure she’ll think of something.” He pulls out his phone, checking once again for an akuma update. “Hey, look,” he says, pulling the phone towards Gabriel. “There’s a photo of you. People know Mulot now! Isn’t that cool?”

Under other circumstances he might have cared. At the moment, all he can do is be wary of the lack of akumas.

Finally, early the next day, another akuma emerges. Her name is Blindsider, and she is clothed in angry red, with a blindfold of the same color draped over her eyes, though it doesn’t seem to restrict her vision. She holds something white in her hand that shoots out her power, but she moves too quickly for them to see what it is.

“Didn’t see that coming?” she cackles as she hits a fleeing pedestrian. “Now you know how I feel!”

The effects are clear, even if the location of the akuma isn’t. Those hit with her beam are instantly blinded, their eyes going white and cloudy once the blade-like light fades away.

“As if she wasn’t overpowered enough,” Chat Noir grumbles. “She had to be super fast too?”

“I don’t know how we’re going to find the akuma,” Ladybug says, equally frustrated. “If we get hit before we can figure it out, it’ll be really hard to defeat her.”

“It seems to be whatever she has in her hand,” Chat says.

“I think so, too,” Ladybug responds, “but we need to be sure, especially if we’re going to risk getting blinded for it.” She clenches her fist, looking out at Blindsider with frustration.

“I know it’s a bit unconventional,” Mulot Gris proposes, “but perhaps it’s time for me to activate my power.”

“Before Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm?” Chat asks.

“He doesn’t have a detransformation countdown like us,” Ladybug says. “It’s not a bad idea.” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “It’s risky, Mulot. Even with your powers, you could still get hit.”

“I’m aware.”

The heroes look to each other and nod. “Be careful, Father,” Chat Noir says. The heroes back away to let him activate his power.

Mulot Gris detaches his jump rope and spins it above his head. “Sneak Attack!” he cries, letting the rope twirl around him like a lasso before coming down to his feet.

Using his power is just as bizarre as it was to him the first time. Ladybug and Chat Noir seem to be suddenly frozen at first glance, but upon closer inspection, he can see them moving very slowly. A look outwards towards the rest of the city reveals the same. Cars that previously were going seventy kilometers per hour down a nearby street now seem to be crawling along.

Mulot shakes his head, refocusing. Although he doesn’t have a countdown before he detransforms, the length of his powers do have a limit, and he’ll only have about a minute in his own perspective — about ten seconds realtime — before he’s back to normal.

Blindsider seems to have some level of superspeed, too, even though it’s minimal compared to his own. As Mulot comes out in the open, he immediately darts behind another wall. Blindsider can’t catch him, but she can perceive him. He’ll have to be careful that she doesn’t anticipate his movement.

He scales an even higher building, hoping to get a better vantage point, but Blindsider hears him and begins to follow him up after missing him with her beam. He grits his teeth, slowing himself so he can move to another rooftop more quietly and hide. Blindsider finally makes it to the top; slow, but not unmoving.

Mulot takes a deep breath and rushes at her as fast as he can from the side, taking in every detail of her that he can. Her costume is plain and smooth to her body, showing no signs of hidden objects. That narrows it down to the blindfold or the object in her hand.

He takes a calculated risk and extends his journey despite knowing he’ll be spotted, reaching towards her blindfold. She allows him to pull it from her eyes, her only response being to raise her hand towards him, which he now sees contains papers of some sort.

Just as quick as Mulot had run towards her, he dashes away at an angle, narrowly missing the light that soars towards him. He can’t outrun it, but it luckily isn’t much faster than him, allowing him to dodge it. He zigzags across the roof as randomly as he can before jumping back down to Ladybug and Chat Noir.

His power times out just as he drops to their sides. They jump, startled by his sudden presence, but he doesn’t give them long to adjust before he pulls them along, running so they can evade Blindsider.

“It’s not the blindfold,” Mulot Gris says breathlessly, dropping it to the ground. “I didn’t see anything else on her, so it must be the papers in her hand.”

“They’re papers,” Ladybug muses. “Okay, I think it’s time for Lucky—”

She doesn’t get to finish her words. One of Blindsider’s beams comes out of nowhere, hitting her.

“Ladybug!” Chat cries.

She stumbles backwards into Mulot. Before he can react, he missteps off the edge of the building and plummets towards the ground.

It takes far too long for his mind to start functioning again. Only a few feet off the street below, he catches himself on a pipe with his jump rope. He looks back up to see Chat Noir desperately defending a blind Ladybug from further attacks, losing ground.

Mulot Gris knows that Chat can’t protect the both of them and that he’ll choose Ladybug over himself. “Ladybug!” Mulot calls from the ground. She jerks her head towards him. “Jump! I’ll catch you!”

“Milady, no!” Chat exclaims as she fearlessly steps off the side of the building. Mulot has no opportunity to watch him, instead focusing on catching Ladybug.

She lands easily in his arms, and he sets her down to her feet. “Is Chat okay?” she immediately asks, staring up at the sky, but seeing nothing.

Mulot looks up just in time to see Chat Noir get hit, too, distracted by Ladybug’s fall. “No. He just got hit.”

“Chat!” Ladybug calls. “You have to jump, too!”

“What? That’s crazy!”

“Look out!” Mulot exclaims as Blindsider approaches Chat Noir.

Chat’s ears perk up, and he thankfully dodges Blindsider’s attack. He manages to keep away, but he’s severely disadvantaged against her with his primary sense gone. “It’s okay,” he assures them, despite this. “I can do it.”

“Can he?” Ladybug whispers.

“No,” Mulot Gris responds, heart sinking.

“Chat, no!” Ladybug yells up to him. “You can’t! Please, listen!”

“Chat,” Mulot grits, seeing Blindsider get dangerously close to his ring. “Jump.”

“I can’t,” Chat says. “You’re asking too much!” He manages to push Blindsider off as she tackles him, but she just comes right back, grabbing him again.

“Chat, please!” Mulot begs. “I know I haven’t done much to earn your trust, but I need it now!”

Blindsider pins Chat to the ground, reaching for his ring again. Chat tips his head back, looking vaguely in Mulot’s direction with wide, fearful eyes.

“Come on, son,” he says under his breath. “I won’t let you down again.”

He thinks that somehow, Chat Noir hears him. With a grunt, his son kicks Blindsider off of him and courageously barrel rolls off the side of the building.

Mulot feels like he’s not doing enough as he waits, arms open, for Chat Noir to land in them. The few seconds it takes are maddenning, and he can’t quite believe it when he catches Chat without problem.

Both of them are breathing heavily. Mulot puts Chat back on the ground, but doesn’t let go right away, hugging him close as he can feel his own heart beating against Chat’s chest.

It takes him a moment to realize that Chat is holding him back. “You caught me,” he breathes.

“Of course,” Mulot chokes, cradling Chat’s head to his shoulder. “Of course.” He pulls back, taking Chat’s face into his hands to examine him. “Oh,” he laments, looking at his son’s cloudy eyes. “Oh, no. Does it hurt?”

Chat Noir shakes his head. Mulot pulls him in once more.

Ladybug wildly grasps at them, managing to latch onto their arms. “Where is she?” she asks.

Mulot looks up. Blindsider is standing still, Swallowtail’s mask glowing over her own hazy eyes. “Preoccupied, but not for long.” Without warning, he pulls Chat Noir onto his back, earning a surprised yelp in return. “Climb up,” Mulot instructs Ladybug, bending down and guiding her hands so she can pile onto Chat’s back.

Once both heroes are in place, Mulot runs, with some effort, to find shelter for them, settling on hiding them behind a building down the street. Blindsider is in motion again, coming slowly toward them as she looks down over the side of each roof in search.

“Oh, God, what do we do?” Ladybug stresses, grabbing at her face. “Neither Chat Noir or I can see, and Mulot Gris has already used his power!”

“But neither of you have used yours,” Mulot realizes, glancing back up at Blindsider.

“What good does that do when we can’t see her?” Ladybug exclaims.

“Ladybug is right,” Chat says. “My cat-like hearing helps some, but even I can’t fight her effectively. We’re screwed.”

“No,” Mulot Gris says. He grabs their hands. “Listen. I have an idea, but you have to be willing to put your faith in me. Can you do that?”

He’s surprised at how little time it takes each of them to say, “yes.”

He nods with determination. “Good. Now, we need your powers, but you need me to be your eyes. I think, together, we can do this.” He turns his attention to Ladybug. “We need Lucky Charm first. Then we can come up with the rest of the plan.”

“Okay,” she says. “Lucky Charm!” A spotted tube falls into her hands. She frowns, feeling it. “What is it?” she asks.

“A hose,” Mulot Gris realizes, taking it from her. He looks around for clues. “I have no idea how to use it though.”

“Okay,” Ladybug says thoughtfully, “is there something we could tie it to? Or maybe we’re meant to use it as a slingshot! Or, it could be—”

“Ladybug,” Chat interrupts. “That’s not what we need right now, I think. Wouldn’t the Charm give us something at least a little simpler? Like when you and I switched miraculouses.”

“Good point,” she concedes. “Okay, so a hose is used to deliver water. Do you see anything we could attach it to? Maybe a fire hydrant? Or something we might be able to use if Chat breaks it?”

Mulot does see a hydrant, but he’s holding a standard garden hose, not one that could attach to a hydrant. He looks elsewhere. “There’s a spout across the street,” he says, “but the hose is too short to reach up the building. Unless — oh,” he says, taking note of the state of the building they’re hiding behind. All the windows and doors are boarded up. “I know what we need to do to disable her weapon. Stay here,” orders, putting his hand on Chat’s shoulder. “Ladybug, let’s go.” He offers his arm to her, and they dash across the street, thankful that Blindsider doesn’t spot them from her position four buildings away.

Gabriel quickly attaches the hose to the spout. “Come here,” he instructs, placing Ladybug’s hand on the faucet. He positions her other hand to point the hose outward toward its target. “When I give the cue, turn the faucet on as high as you can. Keep the hose pointed how it is. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she says.

He hurries back across the street as Blindsider’s back is turned. She’s only one building away.

“Climb on my back,” Mulot whispers to Chat. He does so. Mulot grabs Chat’s arm and positions it over his shoulder. Stretched outwards. “On my word…” Blindsider lands on their building, and he waits for her to draw closer.

His eyes widen as movement on the roofs across the street catch his gaze.

Swallowtail.

She doesn’t see him. She bends over, hands on her knees and breathing with some effort, looking exhausted and in pain. He almost calls out, but then he remembers. They have to take down Blindsider first.

This is his responsibility. He reluctantly tears his eyes away, even as his heart squeezes painfully.

The seconds he has to wait for Blindsider to creep forward are agonizing. “Now,” he whispers, as she finally moves into their trap.

“Cataclysm!”

Blindsider startles at the sound, but it’s too late. Chat Noir’s hand makes contact with the abandoned building she stands on, and the next moment, Mulot Gris carries him away, out of range of the collapsing structure.

“Ladybug, now!” Mulot shouts.

She turns on the hose. Right as Blindsider lands, she is drenched with water. Her papers are soaked too, becoming floppy and useless.

Mulot’s eyes are drawn elsewhere, however. Swallowtail looks at him with wonder from above, eyes filling with tears. She winces and clutches her knees even harder, and his brow furrows with worry.

Mulot shakes his head, realizing he’s still the only one on his team who can see. He breaks his stare and runs toward Blindsider, snatching her disabled weapon from her. He tears the papers in half, and a black butterfly flies out, which he catches in his cupped hands and brings to Ladybug. She opens her yoyo, and he tips the creature inside.

The akuma flies out, purified, and he puts the hose into Ladybug’s hands. She throws it skyward. “Miraculous Ladybug!

The first thing he does is look up to spot Swallowtail, but she’s nowhere to be seen anymore.

“Mulot?” Ladybug asks.

“Swallowtail was here,” he explains, glancing at her. He is, at the very least, relieved to see that Ladybug and Chat Noir’s eyes are back to normal. “She’s gone now, though.” He forces his eyes off the empty rooftops.

Ladybug grimaces. “I’m sorry.” She looks down at the papers in Mulot’s hand. “So, what was it?”

Mulot Gris glances down. His face quickly heats up. “Something personal that I should return,” he answers.

He approaches the victim carefully. She is about his age, maybe slightly younger — an elegant but tired looking woman.

“I believe these belong to you,” he says gently, handing the love letter back to her.

“Oh, thank you,” she gasps, taking the pages from him with shaking hands. A slight blush forms on her cheeks. “Did you read it?”

“Very little,” he promises. He hesitates, unsure of how he is supposed to comfort an akuma victim. “Did someone reject you?”

“No,” she sighs, holding the papers close. “It’s actually  _ from  _ him. A confession.”

“Oh,” he says, surprised. “Is that not a good thing?” He offers his hand to help her up.

She looks down at the letter unsurely once she’s on her feet. “It should be, shouldn’t it? I was, well,  _ blindsided.  _ Apparently he’s felt this way for  _ years.”  _ She shakes her head, eyes filling with tears. “I’ve loved him for nearly as long, but never did a thing about it. And we’ve both been so lonely. I think of all the time we’ve wasted and I can’t believe it. We could have been married by now, had a family, been happy for all that time—”

“You can still have that,” Mulot says, passion bubbling out out of him.

She sighs, looking weary. “Have you ever wasted time?”

He struggles for an answer. “I’m not sure yet. I believe in some ways, yes, I have.”

“And is it too late?”

“I don’t know,” he confesses. “I’m trying to make sure it isn’t.” He frowns, looking at the papers in her hand. “But it’s certainly not too late for you. Don’t think of it as being something you’ve lost. You’ve still gained something remarkable.”

She gives a soft smile, looking down to read her new love’s words once more. “You’re probably right. We’re lucky to have you as a hero.”

“I’m not—”

“Thank you, Mulot. I’ll go find him.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug approach him as she leaves. He turns around, taking a step back as he sees their outstretched fists.

“Pound it?” Chat asks, offering his out a bit further. Mulot’s eyebrows raise; he’s never been invited to their post-battle celebration before. Still, he obliges, meeting their fists with his own.

“It doesn’t feel like a victory,” Mulot laments, looking back up to where Swallowtail had appeared, only for a moment.

Chat Noir follows his eyes. “How did she look?”

“Not good.” Mulot drops his head, shaking it. “I’m scared for her,” he admits.

He looks up to see Chat giving him an indiscernible look. However, he doesn’t comment further.

“How much more time do you think we have?” Ladybug asks.

“I don’t know,” Mulot says. “It’s hard to say since she’s no longer using a broken miraculous. But she looked very weak. I don’t think we have long at all.”

She puts a comforting hand on his forearm. “I know this isn’t working. And we will try something new. I have an idea I’ve been working on, but I have to get the Guardian on board with it first. After today, I think he’ll finally listen.”

They part ways, and Mulot doesn’t fail to notice as Ladybug leaves a parting kiss on Chat Noir’s cheek.

Later, back at the mansion, Gabriel questions Adrien about it. “Are you and Marinette dating now?”

Adrien’s face reddens. “Maybe. Why, are you going to stop us?” he asks, tensing.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to, and for the record, I don’t.” Adrien relaxes. Gabriel continues, “She’s a lovely girl and I believe you’re old enough to have a relationship, as long as it stays age-appropriate. Of course, we will need to have a talk about safety when the time comes.”

Adrien flushes all over again. “The time won’t come for a while,” he chokes out. “We only just got together.”

“Okay,” Gabriel says simply, not looking to embarrass him further.

After a moment, Adrien clears his throat, a new curious look on his face. “I actually have a question for you. Not about Marinette, but about. Um. A relationship.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Are you in love with Nathalie?” Adrien stammers.

Gabriel is certain that his face has flushed just as much as Adrien’s had moments before. “Why do you ask that?”

“Sorry,” Adrien says quickly, hand rising to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. “It just seemed like maybe you were?” he questions lamely. “I mean, you’re so worried about her. Not that I’m not worried too, but it seems different. And you’re so sad without her here, I just — And today! The way you spoke to the victim, and how you kept looking up at rooftops for Swallowtail as we walked home, and — Sorry.” He shakes his head. “It’s dumb. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel answers honestly.

Adrien gapes at him. “You — you don’t know?” Gabriel shakes his head, heart pounding nervously and in disbelief at his own admission. “How do you not know if you love someone?”

“You didn’t ask me if I loved her,” Gabriel corrects. Adrien’s eyes narrow. “You asked if I was  _ in  _ love with her. I know that I love her; there’s no doubt about that. You were right when you said she was a part of this family. However when it comes to the  _ nature  _ of my feelings for her…” His fingers twitch at his side. “I’ve yet to determine whether they’ve become — well, become romantic.”

“Well,” Adrien comments, smiling a bit uneasily. “You  _ are  _ blushing.”

Gabriel sighs, wishing he could simply will the redness out of his cheeks. “Yes, fine. They are romantic, to some degree. But being ‘in love’ is a bit different. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

Adrien smiles again, this time genuinely. “For the record, it seems like you are, Dad. And that’s a good thing!” he exclaims. “I think she’s good for you. I think it’s good for all of us that she comes home.”

Gabriel blinks at Adrien as his brain finally catches up. “You called me ‘Dad,’” he marvels.

“Is that a problem?” he asks unsurely.

“No,” Gabriel is quick to say. “Quite the opposite. I’m surprised is all.”

Adrien shrugs, glancing away. “Yeah, I guess I did. I mean, you did save me today,” he reasons. “I see how much it hurt you to let Swallowtail go. You had to make a hard choice, and you chose Ladybug and me.”

Gabriel feels a bit of warmth bloom out of the coldness within his chest. He wraps an arm around Adrien and pulls him close, contemplating his words. After a few moments of quiet, he admits, “You might be right, Adrien.”

“About Nathalie?”

Gabriel nods, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Adrien smiles. Gabriel acknowledges, “I just might be in love with her.” His heart aches, but having Adrien by his side helps protect him from his wounds. “But you know,” he says, “there is one person who will always be more important to me.”

Adrien’s smile falters, and he closes his eyes with a sigh. “Yeah, I know. Mom.”

“No,” Gabriel says. “ _ You,  _ Adrien.”

For the first time in a long time, Adrien looks at him with open happiness. 

The doorbell rings. They separate from each other with surprised looks, eyebrows raising higher as they hear the front door open and close without their invitation.

They glance at each other and head into the foyer. It should be no surprise, really, that the culprit is, once again, Marinette.

“Is there another akuma?” Adrien asks.

She shakes her head. “No. And I doubt there will be for a while.” She glances at Gabriel. “She’s slowing down and we’re running out of chances.”

“So it’s hopeless,” Adrien says glumly.

“Not at all. It won’t be easy,” Marinette says, placing her hands on her hips with a determined smile, “but I do have a plan.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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Next chapter is the wish reveal. Place your final bets.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heroes race against the clock to rescue Swallowtail from herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note for clarity before we begin: my rules for adults vs. kids using the miraculous is that everyone only gets to use their powers once before having to detransform. However, adults aren't forced to detransform 5 minutes after using their powers. They just can't use them again.

_ Yeah, I'm crazy but there's no escaping from you. _

🦋

“I’ve been brewing this up for a while,” Marinette reveals, pacing back and forth in the front hall. “Honestly, ever since we first faced off with Swallowtail. But it wasn’t complete yet. Today I just put the last piece in place and asked permission from Fu.”

“And he said yes?” Adrien pushes.

“Reluctantly,” she responds with an eye roll, “but yeah. It’s complicated, though.” She turns to Gabriel. “I need two things from you, Mister Agreste, and one may be harder than the other. The first is something that Nathalie has touched — it’s best if she touched it right before she left or if she came in contact with it often, or some combination of the two. Do you have something like that?”

“Why—?”

“No time to explain,” Marinette exclaims, bouncing on her toes. “So? Do you have something?”

Gabriel nods. “Her room has been virtually untouched since she… left. Would her pillowcase work?”

“That’s perfect,” Marinette says. “This one is harder though — I need something that ties you to her sentimentally.”

“An object?” Gabriel frowns, at a loss. “I’m not sure about that. Let me retrieve her pillowcase, and I’ll think about it.”

He hopes that being in her room will help him have an epiphany, but it does little good. The space is highly impersonal, the only sign of Nathalie having lived there being a few items of clothing in the closet. Mostly lesser-worn items, at that.

He descends with only the pillowcase draped over his arm, feeling defeated. “I can’t think of a sentimental item. She and I have exchanged gifts, but they were always professional and impersonal. I doubt that a nice pen would work.”

Marinette shakes her head. “No, it needs to have emotional value. The more, the better.”

Gabriel turns to Adrien. “Can you think of anything?”

“How would I know?” he exclaims. Still, he takes on a thoughtful expression. “I can’t tell you what makes  _ you  _ feel attached to her, but maybe you’re going about this wrong. Stop thinking about what objects she might have given you, and instead find something connected to a positive memory or feeling?”

The answer hits him like a ton of bricks. “Of course,” he sighs, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I’ve been an utter idiot.”

“Money?” Marinette asks flatly, but Gabriel shakes his head. He thumbs through the photos in his wallet, mostly wallet-sized headshots of Emilie and Adrien, until he finds what he’s looking for and pulls it out.

“A picture,” he announces.

Adrien surges forward to look. “I’ve never even seen this before,” he says in awe. Gabriel is surprised at that; after all, the photo features a young Adrien laughing alongside Nathalie in a blanket fort. “I don’t even remember.”

“You were only about four or so,” Gabriel says. “Your mother was traveling, and I had an event to attend, and the babysitter dropped out last minute. Nathalie stepped up. There was a thunderstorm that night, which you were terribly afraid of at the time. Rather than sending you back to bed, she helped you construct this. It was well past your bedtime, but this is what I came home to.”

Adrien smiles softly at it. “I’m sure she would have liked some quiet time alone. It was nice of her to do that.”

“It was,” Gabriel says, taking the photo back. He can’t help but stare at it himself, taking comfort in her warm smile. “I realized that day how much she cared for you. We became much closer friends after that.”

“It’s perfect,” Marinette comments. “You can hold onto it for now, and I’ll explain everything when we get to Fu’s.” She reaches into her purse and hands him the Mouse miraculous. “Tikki, spots on!”

“Plagg, claws out!”

“Mullo, scurry forth!”

The Guardian is already waiting for them at the door when they swing down into the street and detransform. “Hurry,” he says, ushering them in.

Gabriel notices that Fu is wearing the Peacock miraculous, something that Marinette acknowledges as well, though she seems less surprised than he. “What is it? Did you pick something up?”

“Yes,” Master Fu says, rubbing his thumb over the brooch. “You were right, Marinette, she’s been distressed this whole time, just as you felt throughout the week. I didn’t realize just how much pain she was in.”

“You’ve been wearing the Peacock?” Adrien exclaims, turning to her.

“Just this week,” Marinette says. “I needed evidence to convince the Guardian that this is desperate situation.”

“I should have listened sooner,” Master Fu admits. “Now, time is of the essence. Here,” he says, taking the brooch off and giving it back to Marinette. “I cannot bear to feel this for another minute.” Duusu flutters anxiously between them, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Do you know what is wrong?” Gabriel asks, alarmed. “Is she that close to…?”

Master Fu shakes his head. “Not precisely. Only that she’s feeling hopeless, distraught, and hurt. I think it’s best the three of you bring her back quickly so I can heal her before it’s worse. Let’s not prolong her pain.” He looks at Marinette and nods. “Put it on,” he says. She pins the Peacock miraculous to the collar of her shirt.

“She’s going as the Peacock?” Adrien asks.

“Mmm. Kinda,” Marinette answers.

“Wait!” Adrien says. “Isn’t it still dangerous? It was damaged.”

“The miraculous is fixed, and Duusu has been healed,” Fu assures him. “I promise you it’s safe.”

“It’s sweet to worry, Chaton, but it’s good as new,” she says, scratching him under the chin, bringing a smile to his face. “Okay, guys, gear up. Tikki, spots on!”

Adrien and Gabriel also reactivate their transformations.

“Here we go,” Ladybug says, a determined look on her face. “Tikki, Duusu, unify!”

Blue light washes over Ladybug, changing her costume. All of her spotted spandex turns turns a dark indigo, but another layer forms on top. It is a violet red cheongsam, cut high on her leg and short-sleeved. It is decorated with swirling peacock feathers and concentric spot-like circles, and it has wide, gauzy, transparent sleeves that come down her arms like deep blue wings. There is a wide belt in the same color, which holds her yoyo. On her head, her red ribbons have turned to violet red feathered combs, and her pigtails now form loose loops, drawn higher on her head than usual. Her mask is the same violet red, but it still has its spots, while her eyes seem a darker blue than usual.

“Ladybug,” Chat Noir says breathlessly, staring at her new form. Mulot himself can appreciate the aesthetic of a new transformation, but he suspects that his son is gawking for an entirely different reason.

“For now, you can call me ‘Quan Yin,’” she corrects with a wink, which only seems to send Chat into more of a fluster. “Don’t worry, Chaton, it’ll be your turn soon enough.”

“Me too?” Chat exclaims.

“Yes, but not yet,” Quan Yin responds. She turns to Mulot. “Okay, Mulot, do you have the photo?”

Mulot retrieves it from the table, where he had set it down before transforming.

Quan Yin looks to Master Fu. “Will you allow me to do it the way I intended?”

A grimace forms on Fu’s face. “Chat Noir would be a fine choice for it,” he argues.

“Yes, but not as good as Mulot. Uh, sorry Chat,” she says, turning red.

“It’s fine,” Chat responds with a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about anyway.”

“I can’t stop you,” Fu says, even though his face indicates that he would like to.

“If it’s my decision, then I choose Mulot to do it,” she decides. “Hold onto that,” she orders Mulot, who is still holding the photo out to her. “I’m going to make you the holder of a senticreature.”

“You are?” Mulot asks Quan Yin, shocked. “Why?”

“If we can keep Swallowtail distracted, our chances are better,” she explains. She turns to Mulot. “And since you have the strongest relationship to her, it makes sense for you to be the holder. It helps that you’re familiar with the Peacock’s powers too, even if you haven’t actually used an amok yourself.”

“What will I do with it?”

“It’s going to be tricky,” she says. “Without proper focus, the senticreature will just form here, and that won’t help as much. I need you to concentrate very hard on Nathalie, making your goal to protect her and keep her still. With any hope, the senticreature will manifest right by her side. Can you do that?” Quan Yin asks.

“I will certainly try.”

“Okay. Close your eyes and concentrate.”

He lets his eyelids fall closed and he thinks of Nathalie. First, of the photograph in his hand, then of the extraordinary woman he had become friends with over the years. He thinks of her now, broken, and scared, and desperate, and his heart aches. It  _ aches.  _ Oh God, he loves her. He loves her so much. All he wants is to bring her home and protect her.

There’s no going back now. He’s broken the dam, and all his love and worry for Nathalie pours out. He can tell that the Peacock is enhancing his emotion because it continues to crash down on him at a nearly unbearable level. After seemingly forever, his hurt finally eases up a little, and that’s when he knows he can break his concentration.

“Did it work?” he gasps, voice thick with emotion.

“Senticreature,” Quan Yin says, looking right through him. “I am Quan Yin. Your task is to protect Swallowtail and keep her in one place until we can find her.” The mask over her eyes disappears, and she focuses on Mulot. “Yeah. I don’t know exactly what kind of creature it is, but there’s something there, and it’s with her.”

“Good.” His heart continues to thunder in his chest, conflicted and distressed.

“Why not just give him the full miracle box?” Fu grumbles.

_ “I  _ was supposed to be wearing most of them, but  _ you  _ wouldn’t let me,” she retorts.

“For good reason,” Fu exclaims. “It’s extremely dangerous to wield multiple miraculous at a time. Two is already pushing it.”

“Well then we’re going to use our two to the greatest extent,” Quan Yin says. She goes to Master Fu, and he places a miraculous box in her hands with a grimace. “Chat, this is for you.”

“Me?” he exclaims. “Like, to use as a fusion? Like you?”

“Yep,” she says.

“The snake.”

“Nope.”

“The monkey.”

“Nope.”

“The —”

“Chat!”

“Sorry.”

She glares at him, unamused. “It’s something new.” A small smile creeps onto her face. “We’re about to unleash the beast.”

“I like the sound of that,” Chat says.

She opens the box to let him see. It’s a small, plain necklace.

Chat takes it, and the Dog kwami flies out. “Hello, Chat Noir! I’m Barkk!” He lets out a bark after he speaks to punctuate this.

“Uhh, are you sure about this, Milady?” Chat asks. “Cats and dogs don’t really mix.”

“Nonsense!” Barkk says. “The Black Cat and Dog miraculouses are a great combination!”

“Trust me, Chat Noir,” Quan Yin says. “This will be a perfect match.”

“Well, if you say so, Buggaboo. So, Barkk. What do I do?”

“My transformation phrases are ‘nose up,’ and ‘nose down,’ though you probably won’t have to use those if you stay fused. Your special power is to track someone or something with a familiar item that has their scent on it. Do you have that?”

“I do,” Chat Noir says, glancing at the pillowcase. His nose wrinkles. “Will I have to sniff it?”

Barkk laughs. “No, not at all! All you’ll need to do is hold onto that, say “Tracking time,” and you’ll be drawn toward your destination!”

“Oh good,” Chat Noir sighs. “In that case — Plagg, Barkk, unify!”

The beast is indeed, unleashed. Mulot finds this new fusion to be quite unsettling. Chat Noir seems to grow in size, though it may be an optical illusion. His eyes change from green to amber and glowing. Brown fur sprouts from his shoulders and forearms and from a hood that slides over his head. The rest of his costume is still black leather, but it bulks up, the sleek design replaced by weightier armored pieces. There are points of amber light down his chest and torso. His boots become clunkier, changing to a more combat-style with many buckles, and the Dog’s weapon, a boomerang, forms in his hand.

“What should we call you, beastie?” Quan Yin asks.

The beast smiles roguishly. “You can call me Grim Noir. Let’s go!”

They head toward the door. Quan Yin stops, letting out a small noise as she reaches for the Peacock miraculous at her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Mulot asks. 

“She’s panicking. I hope she’s okay.”

“Then we should hurry,” Mulot says, gesturing forward.

“Wait,” Fu says from behind them. They turn to face him. He sighs, placing a hand on the Miracle Box. “Quan Yin, Grim Noir. Do you trust him?”

“I do,” Quan Yin affirms.

Grim Noir looks at Mulot closely. “Yes,” he says, slowly and surely. “He’s earned it.”

“Very well,” Master Fu says. He retrieves a miraculous and gives it to Mulot. The glasses of the Horse. “I’d rather not give you this, but I suspect you may need it to turn the tide. This is so you may return quickly. If Swallowtail is as distressed as Quan Yin says she is, this should make retrieving her easier. Do you know what to do?”

“Yes,” Mulot says. He takes the glasses and puts them on. “Thank you. Mullo, Kaalki, unify!”

There is no mirror for him to look into, but he is aware that his attire goes through some changes as well. The design of his costume is still sleek, but he has the extra protection of leather in a few places, mainly on his shoulders and torso. Any black on his outfit is replaced by dark brown, and the gray becomes darker. His shoes become better structured, gaining solid heels and steel toes. He looks down to find that his jump rope has multiplied, separating into eight strands.

He reaches up. There is a horseshoe weapon hooked to his back. His mask is gone, replaced by his thick black lenses, and he feels that his hair is — dear Lord. The hair that is usually neatly styled over his undercut has grown out into a long ponytail.

Oh well. It’s no time to be vain.

“Ready…?” Quan Yin trails off, waiting for his name.

“Sleipnir,” he responds quietly. “Let’s go.”

“Go ahead, Grim,” Quan Yin instructs.

“Tracking time!” Grim Noir shouts, holding his boomerang high in the air. His pupils dilate. “Whoa, that’s weird.”

Sleipnir looks around. Nothing in their environment has changed. “What?”

“I can’t fully explain,” Grim responds. “I just feel pulled to where we need to go. Follow me.” He starts running down the street, and Quan Yin and Sleipnir keep close pursuit.

Grim Noir leads them over buildings, down streets, around corners, and across rooftops in a winding path. He never pauses, always jumping right into the next direction, led by his new ability. Quan Yin and Sleipnir keep pace as best they can, sometimes having to run a bit harder in order to stay right behind him.

They’ve traveled quite a distance before Grim Noir shows his first sign of uncertainty. As Sleipnir jumps up next to him on the roof, it becomes clear what has caused Grim to pause.

Swallowtail is crumpled on the street below, utterly broken. Sleipnir’s breath catches in his throat as he takes her in — a bruised face, tattered clothes, and starved body. Over her hovers a familiar moth-like creature — most definitely the senticreatre that she had created for him before, and he has now created for her.

“Something isn’t right,” Grim Noir says, but Sleipnir can hardly hear him over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He finally remembers his own powers, and he unties the jump ropes from his waist. “Wait, Sleipnir, this isn’t—”

“Sneak Attack!” Sleipnir’s companions freeze in place, and whatever Grim had meant to say is slowed down to an incomprehensible level. Sleipnir turns, refocusing his gaze on Swallowtail.

He jumps down and slowly approaches, afraid that she might disappear on him if he gets too close, like a mirage. Now that he is closer, he sees a gash in her lip, leaking blood down her chin and onto her pale gray collar.

“Nathalie,” he breathes, and he’s shaking uncontrollably. He can barely hold his arms steady to wrap her in his embrace.

And, like his worst nightmare, she  _ does  _ disappear.

As soon as Sleipnir makes contact with Swallowtail, she dissolves into the air. “What?” he exclaims, scrambling to catch something no longer there. Moments later, the giant moth also fades into nothingness.

It was an illusion, he realizes, feeling quite stupid. A trick. He slaps his jump ropes against the ground, breaking his powers early rather than waiting for them to time out.

“—right. I can feel that she’s further away, and —” Grim Noir stops, adjusting to Sleipnir’s new position and the disappearance of the illusion. “You used your Sneak Attack, didn’t you?”

“Unfortunately.” He rubs his face. “I was foolish. Overeager. It seems Volpina has something to do with this.”

“Most likely,” Quan Yin grumbles.

“I’m afraid I’ve ruined this plan entirely. Is there any hope?”

“Don’t say that!” Grim Noir exclaims. “Of course there is. You still have your Voyage, and Quan Yin and I have our usual powers. Right, Buggaboo?”

“Grim is right,” she says. “We can’t give up yet.”

“Speaking of which, we should hurry. I’m still tracking Swallowtail, and she’s close.”

Sleipnir leaps back up to follow Grim Noir once more, still cursing himself for his stupidity. They move slower now, Grim making finer adjustments on their route. They’re practically walking along rooftops when Grim comes to a stop and looks down off the ledge. “We’re here,” he whispers.

Sleipnir barely dares to look down. Swallowtail is there, presumably real this time, and he’s relieved to find that she doesn’t look quite as wretched as the illusion of her. That’s not to say there’s no cause for concern; her dress has turned into a mess of tattered, tangled fabric, and almost all of the color has faded out of her, leaving her mostly gray and white. But beyond that, she seems unharmed and not quite as sickly as she had appeared in Volpina’s trap.

Of course, Swallowtail isn’t alone. She has the company of Sleipnir’s senticreature.

Sleipnir stumbles back as he sees him. Of all the forms he expected the creature to take, he was not expecting Gabriel Agreste.

Still, the creature is seemingly not as convincing to Swallowtail as it is to him. Although Sleipnir feels as if he is looking into the strangest of mirrors, Swallowtail has already called the creature’s bluff. “No, I will not go with you!” she exclaims, pulling her hand from his grasp. “You’re not him. You’re not.”

“Of course I am, my dear Nathalie. Please, let me help you. I want us all to be together again.”

“You know things he doesn’t know,” she grits. “You want things  _ he  _ doesn’t want. You can’t fool me.”

As frustrating as it is that the senticreature has not had the intended effect, Sleipnir can’t help but be a little flattered that Swallowtail knows the real thing from the fake.

He looks to Quan Yin for leadership. She has positioned herself across the street, and Grim Noir stands atop an adjacent building. Sleipnir recognizes the strategy. They are going to cut off all her points of exit. A classic ambush, no powers needed.

She’s fighting the Gabriel copy now, though he refuses to defend himself, only approaching with wide, gentle arms. This, of course, doesn’t make him very convincing, but Sleipnir supposes the time for that has passed. Despite fake-Gabriel not even putting up the most basic defense, however, Swallowtail’s efforts seem taxing. She is breathing with difficulty, and Sleipnir watches in concern as a long trail of blood leaks from her nose.

He looks back up, forcing himself to concentrate. Quan Yin has her hand up, ready to give the signal. As Swallowtail moves between them on the street below, she gestures, and all three of the heroes drop down.

Swallowtail freezes, wiping the blood from her face. Her eyes flicker between them, lingering just a bit longer on Sleipnir. “Gabriel,” she breathes. She snaps her head back to look at fake-Gabriel, who continues to approach her. She lunges at him, unexpectedly pushing him aside, hard enough that he falls, and runs past.

“I’ll cut her off!” Grim calls. “You two follow!”

Sleipnir doesn’t have to be asked twice. He sprints after her, frustrated at how unexpectedly she turns. He is faster than her, for sure, but she plays dirty, throwing obstacles in his path as she follows an unpredictable path. Quan Yin keeps up better, flying above them on the rooftops.

Finally, Grim Noir drops in front of Swallowtail, and she is forced to stop once more. Gabriel and Sleipnir block one turn, and Quan Yin and Grim Noir block the two others. There is a lot of space between them, but no other exit.

Swallowtail begins to cough. “Please. Just leave me alone,” she chokes.

“We can’t do that,” Sleipnir says. “You know that.”

“Please.” She begins to gag violently, and Sleipnir watches in horror as she vomits up blood. He is so shaken that he can’t even use the moment to his advantage, and his companions are equally stunned into stillness. He can’t even think to move until the last bit of blood splatters on the cobblestones.

“You’re ill, Nathalie,” he pleads, staring at the blood mingled with sick. “You have to let us help you.”

She looks wildly between Grim Noir and Quan Yin for their reactions. “They know who I am?” she rasps, once she finds none. Her grip on the wall tightens.

“And me. There are many things I was and am willing to do to bring you home.”

Her eyes flicker over her surroundings. “No.”

“Listen to me. The Guardian can heal you. He’s agreed to.”

“He can’t,” she protests, taking a step back. “There are things he can’t fix, no one can.”

“How can you be so sure if you won’t even try?”

Hurt flashes in her eyes. “I have tried. I  _ know.  _ Please, Gabriel, just let me be. It’s for the best. Trust me.”

“Not when it’s clear that you’re lying to yourself.”

“Wait!” she protests, taking another step back as he draws near. “Think of what we have here. You have two miraculouses. I have the Butterfly. We can take down Ladybug and Chat Noir right now and get your wish. Gabriel, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“Not anymore.”

Her lip trembles. “God, why are you so  _ stubborn?”  _ She backs against the wall, nowhere to run.

But just then, the ground begins to quake. Sleipnir jumps in alarm as civilians scream and buildings begin to crumble. “What—?”

Grim Noir reaches out to touch a collapsing wall, and suddenly, the building stands tall again. “It’s an illusion! It must be Volpina,” Grim Noir warns.

“No!” Sleipnir shouts, running to block Swallowtail’s escape. “What do we do? We can’t lose this chance!”

“Swallowtail is wearing down,” Quan Yin yells over the chaos. “You keep on her, try to sway her if you can. Grim and I will deal with Volpina and meet back up with you,” she calls as she and Grim run off to deal with the akuma.

Swallowtail and Sleipnir stand still in a face-off. “There’s no need for this,” Sleipnir tries to reason. “Just let me fix what’s wrong.”

“I wish I could,” she whispers, eyes glazing with tears. “But you’re the last person who could do that.”

She seems to have been gathering strength in all that time, because without any warning, she leaps up to the roof in one swift movement. Sleipnir follows, and once again, he gives chase. He manages to keep up with her, but neither of them have an edge. Swallowtail is slowing down, but her cane helps her more than Sleipnir’s jump ropes help him, and she continues to block his path in any way she can. There is some give and take, but the distance between them mostly stays even.

Luckily, he is not destined to be in pursuit forever. Swallowtail can barely run anymore. She begins to stumble more and more, allowing Sleipnir to close the gap, and with perfect timing, Chat Noir and Ladybug land in front of her, back to their normal transformations.

She lunges down a side street, but at that moment, her body can’t take anymore. Sleipnir slows to a walk as Swallowtail falls against a wall, coughing and gasping miserably.

“It’s over, dear,” he says gently, extending a hand. “Come.”

She shakes her head, stumbling away, but her breath has gotten away from her. She gasps for air, tottering unsteadily away at a snail’s pace.

Sleipnir’s shoulders raise in alarm as he takes note of her breathing pattern. “She’s hyperventilating,” he announces as Swallowtail desperately gulps for air, bringing a hand to her ribs. Her eyes go wide as she is backed against the wall, and suddenly, Sleipnir feels as if too sudden a move could break her. “Nathalie? Breathe. It’s okay.” This seems to only send her into deeper hysterics. “Nathalie.” She slides down the wall, and he follows in as nonthreatening a manner as he knows how.

She is still trying to get away, even though she has already lost. She scoots away from him, but this only strains her more. She silently pleads with him, eyes filling with tears. “No,” she mouths silently.

He takes her hand. “Everything will be okay.” Her eyes fall closed, and her head lolls to the side. Sleipnir is quick to catch her as she loses consciousness, laying her tenderly on the ground.

He quickly checks for breath and a pulse, and is relieved to find she has both.

“Is she okay?” Chat Noir asks fearfully.

“She’s alive,” Sleipnir says. “I don’t know beyond that.” He puts a hand to her cheek, disturbed by how prominently the veins show through her translucent skin. “Nathalie,” he murmurs, trying to wake her.

“Sleipnir,” Ladybug reminds him, “the miraculous.”

“Or course.” With a shaking hand, he unpins the miraculous from her shirt, and her transformation drops, finally bringing Nathalie back to him.

She looks just as worn as her supervillain counterpart. Nathalie’s veins are not quite as pronounced as Swallowtail’s, but Sleipnir can still see a delicate tangle of them under the skin of her cheeks. Her hair is loose from its usual bun, hanging limply. She has dark circles under her eyes, and she is paler than usual.

“Oh, Nathalie,” he laments.

“Master?”

Sleipnir looks up, unsurprised that Nooroo has recognized him through his new identity. “It’s me,” he confirms. “Nooroo, why did she do this? What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know, Master. She’s almost always transformed.”

“There must be something,” he insists as he hands the brooch off to Ladybug.

“I’m forbidden to interact with her in the rare moments she isn’t; I’m not even allowed to look at her. I could always feel something wrong, though. I think the power is killing her!”

“Dad,” Chat Noir interrupts, staring.

Sleipnir looks back down, examining Nathalie for any further injuries. He frowns as he notices that her stomach is slightly domed under the thick fabric of her sweater.

“Why…?” Chat Noir trails off, unsure how to phrase the question.

“I don’t know,” Sleipnir admits. He brings his fingers lightly to her belly, finding it slightly firm to the touch. His eyes widen in alarm as he recalls how she had thrown up blood just minutes before. A terrible thought crosses his mind. “It could be internal bleeding. We need to get her to Fu right away.” He stands. “Chat, take her under the shoulders,” he instructs, carefully positioning Nathalie’s upper half in Chat Noir’s arms. “Ladybug, her feet.” He wastes no time in calling for “Voyage,” creating a portal directly into Fu’s parlor.

The four of them cross through, and Ladybug and Chat Noir are quick to lay Nathalie down.

“You did it,” Fu exclaims. “How is she?”

“Not good,” Gabriel says, dropping his transformation. “She threw up blood, was having trouble breathing; I think she might have some kind of internal injury,” he explains quickly, coming around to kneel at her side. “She needs help  _ now.” _

“And I can give it to her,” Fu assures him. “Marinette, can you—?”

“Got it,” she says, laying his tools down around him quickly.

“Oh no,” Duusu gasps, peeking over his shoulder. “Miss Nathalie.”

Gabriel reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Nathalie’s ear. “I’m here,” he mumbles, stroking a thumb along the side of her face. “Hold on.”

“I’ll have to diagnose the problems first to find out what is damage from the miraculous and what is a separate injury,” Master Fu says. He puts some herbs into a bowl, chants a few quick words, and closes his eyes. He raises his hands above her head and begins to work towards her feet.

He stops halfway and shakes his head. He starts over, slower this time. Once again, he comes to a stop about halfway through. His eyes fly open in alarm.

“What? Can you not fix her?”

Fu blinks down at her. “No, not today.”

Adrien lets out a fretful noise beside him.

“It can’t  _ wait,”  _ Gabriel says, shocked that he even needs to explain how dire the situation is. “You promised to help her.”

“And I will,” Fu retorts. “After I conduct more research and double check my translation of the Grimoire. Some calculations will be necessary.”

“You said you could heal her immediately.” Gabriel doesn’t mean to be ungrateful, but this omission of truth seems ridiculously unfair when they are racing the clock. Besides, Fu is glaring him and he has no idea why he has sparked the old man’s anger yet again.

“We both said things, Mister Agreste. And have left things  _ unsaid  _ as well, it seems.”

“Is it not in your abilities to treat her?” he challenges.

“Master Fu,” Marinette cuts in. “I don’t understand either. Is something wrong? You seemed confident that you could help her as soon as we brought her to you.”

“I thought I could. Now that I see her, I realize it’s not the case.”

“Why not?” Gabriel growls.

“I didn’t know you were withholding important information from me,” Fu says calmly, but there’s something brewing underneath that might be recognized as anger.

“What do you mean, you impetuous old man?” Gabriel snaps, his rage boiling much hotter than Fu’s. “I have done all I can to be cooperative, and you continue to treat me with disdain. I gave up my miraculous. I swore my obedience. I have bared all my secrets to you!”

“I know. For that reason alone, I am all the more shocked that you have hidden this.”

“I have hidden nothing,” Gabriel shouts, injustice swirling in him. He knows that he has picked over every painful detail, putting it on full display. There is nothing left for him to give. He can’t understand why it is suddenly now not enough. “What else is it that you wish to know?” he demands desperately.

“Many things, now that I see I’m missing much of the picture,” Master Fu says back in a steely tone. “But most of all,” he continues, resting a hand on Nathalie’s arm, “I’d like to know why you didn’t think to mention that she’s pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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I doubt a discussion question is needed this time. Feel free to yell at me.  
I'm sure you're all wondering "how?" To be explained more next chapter!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Fu's startling announcement. Gabriel does all the math wrong but somehow ends up with the right answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter discusses some sensitive topics. Trigger warnings (spoilers) can be found in the end notes.

_Now I'm seeing all our kids named spelled out in this bowl of soup.  
I don't know why, it just reminded me your favorite color's red._

🦋

“Pregnant?” Adrien exclaims, confirming that yes, Gabriel did hear the Guardian correctly.

Gabriel, for his part, can only gape for a moment, totally shocked by Master Fu’s proclamation. He finally gathers his wits enough to stammer out, “She’s not —” only to cut off as the words fully hit.

The strange behavior. The change in symptoms. The exhaustion. The loose, thick sweaters, seemingly out of nowhere.

He looks back at her stomach. It isn’t just swollen, as he had initially assumed. It is round.

With child.

“Oh my God.” He continues to stare at her belly, disbelieving, but his eyes don’t deceive him. “She’s pregnant.” He feels as if the air has been knocked out of him, and he has to relearn how to breathe. He has the urge to move closer, scooting forward on his knees until he’s right at her side. He almost expects something to change, but it doesn’t. Nathalie remains unconscious and unaware, and her belly stays rounded, rising and falling gently with her breath. He suddenly remembers his surroundings, and he looks up at Fu abruptly. “You’re sure?” he asks.

“With one hundred percent certainty,” Fu says.

“Oh,  _ God.”  _ His eyes fall back down to Nathalie. He thinks of all that she has been through in the past few months, including their most recent chase and fight. Even though he had just minutes earlier, he has the sudden urge to touch her belly again. It’s different now, though, with the knowledge that there is a fetus developing inside. Because of that, it feels too intimate to lay his hand there without her express permission.

“You didn’t know,” Fu presses.

“No,” Gabriel says, glancing up at him again. “How could I have?” He looks down at Nathalie’s face again, peaceful and resting. He reaches out and strokes her cheek.

Suddenly, he is filled with inexplicable joy. He looks back at her belly again, and feels his chest grow warm with love. He  _ loves  _ her, most definitely, and now she’s with child. She is growing a human being that is part of her, and he feels another wave of love for this new person that is half-Nathalie.

And then, just as suddenly, he feels as if the world has been ripped away from him.

He’s not the father.

He’s missed his chance.

He sucks in a sharp breath and looks up, unable to look at her any longer. He is surprised to find the rest of the room’s occupants looking quite unimpressed, especially Adrien, whose expression is downright murderous.

“What?” Gabriel asks.

“What’s wrong with you?” Adrien exclaims. “It’s  _ Nathalie.  _ She’s part of our family. You can’t just sleep with her and play around with her feelings and — and get her  _ pregnant  _ when you’re not even together!”

“I haven’t — we never — we only  _ kissed.” _

“You  _ kissed?”  _ Adrien shouts as if that’s an even worse offense.

“It was after Dark Cupid; she got hit,” Gabriel explains quickly. “I was just doing what had to be done to break the effects of the akuma.” His heart drops once more. “I am not the father of this child. I don’t know who is.” His brow furrows as he thinks it through, trying to suss out who the culprit could be. “She’s been living with us for months now and hasn’t had any visitors. And as far as I know, there’s no partner in the picture.” He looks to Adrien. “Did you ever hear anything about a boyfriend?”

Adrien shakes his head, still looking upset.

“Duusu?”

“I’m not really supposed to talk about her love life,” Duusu says unsurely. “She asked me not to.”

“Duusu, please. If there’s someone else in the picture, it could put her identity at risk.”

Duusu hesitates. “There isn’t a boyfriend. That’s all I should say!”

Gabriel’s brow furrows at the lack of useful information. He turns back to Fu. “Do you know how far along she is?”

“I’m not much of a medical doctor, but by my estimate, almost at the beginning of the fifth month.”

“Five months?” His mind is reeling. “So long?”

Fu nods.

Gabriel traces back in his mind, trying to think of what was happening around that time. If Nathalie is truly five months along, then that would have been around the time that she moved into the mansion. And the day she moved into the mansion was —

“The wish,” he exclaims.

“You mean this is because of me? As Dejinnerate?” Adrien asks, face pale.

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility, but—” he stops as Nathalie lets out a little moan, turning her head. Her brow is furrowed in a sign of discomfort. “She’s waking up.” He lays a gentle hand on the top of her head, hoping to soothe her. “Nathalie,” he murmurs, not wanting to startle her.

She groans and scrunches her eyes against the light. With effort, she blinks them open. As she finally squints up at him — and he suddenly realizes she’s without her glasses — she lets out a confused, “Gabriel?”

“It’s alright, my dear,” he assures her. “You’re safe.”

“Where…?” Her eyes dart around the room and suddenly go wide with fear. “Get away from me!” She springs herself up into a sitting position and scoots herself away from all of them, stopping as she catches sight of her own feet. For a second she’s frozen still, staring at the exposed skin of her ankles. Shakily, she looks at her bare hands, and as soon as she sees them, she quickly pulls her knees to her chest. She looks at Gabriel like a cornered, wounded animal, and he feels a pang of sympathy in his chest.

“Please don’t run,” he whispers. “You don’t have to run. I know.” He tentatively puts a hand on her knee. “I know.”

“Know what?” she challenges. “There’s nothing to know.” Her voice is shaky all the same, betraying her fear.

Gabriel gently pushes her knee aside. “There’s no need for that, Nathalie. I know you’re expecting.”

She immediately breaks eye contact with him, choosing to stare off into a far corner of the room as her cheeks grow red.

He almost believes that she will stay that way forever, frozen in time. But after a few moments her face crumbles. She lets out a sob. And then another. Soon, she’s crying steadily, shoulders shaking with the strength of it.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he laments. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” This only seems to make it worse, however, so he chooses to stay silent and let her tears run their course.

It takes quite some time, but full sobs eventually diminish to little sniffles. Nathalie slowly raises her head and stiffens again as she notices Adrien and Marinette’s presence for the first time. “Adrien. And… Marinette?” She looks at Gabriel sternly. “What are they doing here? You shouldn’t have dragged them into this.”

“Well…” He hesitates, eyes flicking over to Adrien as he realizes that he may not want his identity revealed.

Adrien makes the decision for him, however. “I’m Chat Noir,” he tells her. “And that’s Ladybug.”

Nathalie’s expression can only be described as horrified, and tears form in her eyes again. “Oh no. _ Adrien.  _ We had no idea—”

“I know,” he says. Gabriel notices that his fists are furled, but his expression does remain soft, becoming even gentler as Nathalie becomes more upset. “Please don’t cry. I’m okay. No lasting harm done.”

“What did I do? I’m a monster,” she wails.

“No, you’re not!” Adrien protests. “I don’t fully understand what happened, but you’re not, Nathalie. You were just… scared.”

He is able to talk her down, but her eyes don’t lose their haunted look. Gabriel can see the weight of the new information on her shoulders. She sniffles, finally lettings her knees fall open as she picks nervously at her cuticles. Every now and then, she lets out a few rough coughs. Gabriel stares at her, trying to figure out which questions he can ask and possibly get answers to.

“How long have you known?” he asks. Nathalie stops what she’s doing, eyes still fixed on her hands.

“A month and a half,” she croaks. He thinks she’s going to say more, but she closes her mouth again in silence.

“Fu says you’re about five months along,” he prods. “I did the math. This is because of the wish, isn’t it?”

She closes her eyes as if her lids can lock out her pain. Hastily, she nods her head ‘yes.’

Gabriel shoots a glance at Adrien, who has gone very pale. “It’s not your fault, Adrien.”

Nathalie’s eyes shoot open. “No,” she agrees vehemently. “Don’t feel bad, Adrien.” Her words are fierce and protective. “Not even for a second. It was our own doing.” She adopts a dark look. “It’s no more than I deserve.”

“It’s  _ my  _ fault above all else,” Gabriel insists. “You were both victims.”

“Okay,” Adrien says smally. “I’m still sorry for it.”

Nathalie’s smile is tinged with sadness. “You’re sweet to feel that way about something you couldn’t have controlled.” Her smile drops, leaving a more solemn atmosphere.

“Marinette and I don’t have to be here,” Adrien says softly. “If you want, we can give you some more privacy while you talk things out.”

Nathalie’s shoulders raise. “I’m sure you’ll hear most of it anyway,” she sighs. “There’s no reason for you to go.”

“Other than the topic not being particularly appropriate for children,” Gabriel suggests.

“Being a  _ superhero  _ isn’t appropriate for children,” Adrien retorts. “I think we’re past that.” His eyes soften as he looks at Nathalie. “What do you want, Nathalie? It’s up to you.”

“I think it’s best that we all get on the same page,” she says, rubbing her tired eyes. “You might as well stay.”

The two teens look at each other then sit on the ground with the rest of them, creating a more relaxed setting, or at least the illusion of one.

Gabriel gazes at Nathalie’s face, and she finally turns her eyes back to him. He looks for a safe topic, but there truly are none. He finally says, “I think I’ve gathered by now that you hoped to end this pregnancy.” Nathalie barely reacts, her gaze dropping as the only sign that she has heard him. “What I don’t understand is why you jumped to such…..drastic measures.” Hurt rises up in him, from all that she has done as well as from the lack of trust placed in him. “I was terrified for you. You  _ drugged  _ me, Nathalie. You stole from me and fought me and I can’t, for the life of me, understand why you did all that and turned away from more conventional ways of dealing with the problem or asking for help.”

She flinches, a bit of anger glinting in her eye. “I’m not an idiot, sir. Of course I tried other means first.” She rubs her eyes. “I went home and took an abortifacient as soon as I found out.” Her eyebrows fall wearily. “And then I waited. And waited. By the third day I knew.”

“It didn’t work,” he realizes.

She shakes her head, tears barely clinging to her lashes. “I had no way of knowing whether it was simple bad luck or if there was deeper magic at work. I couldn’t get a surgical termination. How would doctors react if they literally couldn’t—?” She cuts off, looking deeply upset once more.

“I understand,” he says, and it’s true. “It would be quite the risk if magic was preventing it.”

She nods. “What I did next — b—betraying you, stealing the Butterfly — that was all a last ditch effort, and it failed too.” She blinks down at her stomach. “I can only hope that it  _ was  _ magic. As much as I don’t want to bring this child into the world, I don’t want it to suffer either from a botched attempt.” Gabriel’s heart sinks.

“It’s unharmed,” Fu announces. “I’m not a medical doctor, but I could read its energy clearly.”

Nathalie swipes a hand across her face and scrutinizes him. “Are you the Guardian?”

“I am.”

She looks to Gabriel. “Why am I here? Why are  _ you  _ here willingly?”

“To heal you,” Gabriel says. “That was the hope, at least. He fixed the miraculous and healed Duusu and me.”

“And I  _ will  _ heal you, too,” Master Fu says. “I just need more time to double check my work. The fact that you are with child could complicate matters if we’re not careful. For now, I can stabilize you and minimize your symptoms at least, so that you don’t get any worse.”

As Fu speaks, a line of blood drips from Nathalie’s nose. “Oh,” Gabriel murmurs, looking for something to help. Adrien reaches up on a nearby table and passes him a tissue.

Gabriel leans in to wipe the blood from her face, and she immediately flinches away. He backs off, unsure.

She stills herself, looking ashamed. “Habit,” she explains. “I couldn’t let you get too close or you’d notice.” She allows him this time to wipe the blood from her upper lip. “The nosebleeds aren’t because of the miraculous. It’s —”

“The pregnancy. I know,” Gabriel says. “Emilie used to get them with Adrien.” This is apparently the wrong thing to say because Nathalie goes rigid, looking away from him once more.

Gabriel sighs, feeling as if he’s gotten nowhere. “Nathalie,  _ please.  _ Don’t shut me out again.” Her eyebrows shoot up, and she returns her gaze to him. He looks into her eyes, still not quite believing that she’s really right there in front of him after so much time.

He’s yearning to reach out and hold her. All he wants is to close the remaining distance between them and never let go. He wants to squeeze out the ugly feelings in his chest and give them no space to return.

Instead, he just asks in a quiet voice, “Why didn’t you trust me?”

Nathalie blanches. “It wasn’t that, sir.”

“But it was,” he insists. “You didn’t even  _ tell me,  _ Nathalie. I understand that you have no obligation to divulge every detail of your life to me, especially those considering your medical information, but I thought that as my partner — as my  _ friend  _ — you’d share something so monumental. Especially since you know all of my deepest darkest secrets.” His brow furrows. “Beyond anything else, I’m hurt that you wouldn’t give me the same trust.”

“That’s not fair,” she snaps. “It’s not the same thing, not even remotely.”

“Isn’t it?” He argues back. “As much as I feel for your situation, you have to admit that this not as terrible of a secret as being a supervillain. It took the ultimate trust for me to reveal that to you, but you would not award me even half of the same.”

“Your secret was  _ barely _ a secret; I already knew how you felt about Madame Agreste’s illness and it wasn’t hard to piece together that you were trying to do something about it,” she retorts. “Furthermore,” she insists tearfully as he opens his mouth to reply, “ _ your  _ secret had nothing to do with  _ me.  _ Do you really not understand how  _ private  _ and personal this is? It’s humiliating.”

Nathalie’s words strike him as odd, but he can’t quite place why they bother him. He furrows his brow, trying to figure out what his question even is. “My secret had nothing to do with you?” he repeats back to her. “What do you mean by that? Yours has nothing to do with me either.”

“I—” she cuts off, face going white. “Nothing. I — I just meant. Well.” She opens her mouth to continue, but no sound comes out. Her lip trembles.

Maybe it’s just the effect of Nathalie’s own emotions, but Gabriel’s heartbeat picks up. “Nathalie, how exactly did this happen? What did you wish for?”

She shakes her head slightly with watery eyes. Although she doesn’t speak, he can hear her intentions loud and clear.  _ Please, don’t ask me,  _ she begs.

Gabriel thinks far back to when they first were speculating over what the result of her wish could be. Nathalie had mentioned the desire to have a family in the future. He thinks back even earlier that day, when she had worried over Adrien like he was her own son.

He knows that she is estranged from her own family. She hasn’t spoken to her parents in years, and she has no siblings. As far as he’s aware, she also doesn’t have many friends outside of work. It becomes painfully obvious to him that he and Adrien are the closest to family that she has. And that she has always tried her hardest to be a part of that in any way that she can.

His mouth goes dry. Somehow, although it’s already racing, his heart beats a little faster.

“Who is the father, Nathalie?”

She squeezes her eyes and shakes her head, silently begging him not to ask. But Gabriel has to know the truth.

He takes a more direct approach. “Nathalie,” he insists, laying a hand over hers. She lets out a sob, turning her face away. “Please.” She shakes her head again. “Is it me?” he asks. She curls in on herself. “Am I the father of this child?”

The trembling of her shoulders all but confirms it, but he still waits on bated breath for her answer. Finally, she turns back to him.

His blood runs cold as she nods a simple ‘yes.’

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: unwanted pregnancy, mention of failed abortion attempt
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> How is everyone? Are you okay? We're dealing with some heavy topics, but not everything will be sad forever.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Agreste family tries to navigate the challenges of their new dynamics. It doesn't go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some sensitive topics. Trigger warnings are in the end notes.
> 
> Just a heads-up — the chapters may slow down for a while. I'm currently writing a companion one-shot to TUTB that may take the place of a normal update. There's also a cool fandom writing event that I'm considering participating in soon, which would potentially slow things down a bit. (But it looks like a very fun challenge, which is why I'm thinking about it. If you're another writer or an artist you should check it out: https://gabenathminibang.tumblr.com. Some of my friends are running it and they're really cool!)

Gabriel never thought that he’d be a new father again. He and Emilie had decided even before Adrien was born that they would stop at one. Neither of them had grown up in a large family, and they didn’t get along well with their respective sisters. Emilie and Tilde had apparently butted heads growing up, and once they had reached adulthood, they grew far apart. As for Gabriel himself, his childhood with his older sister Victoire had been even more tumultuous. She was a brat, no, a  _ bully,  _ and she had never grown out of it. When Gabriel married Emilie, equal ire was turned towards her, and at that point, he cut Victoire out as much as he could.

Neither he or Emilie wanted to put Adrien through the same struggles. Keeping him an only child was an easy decision.

In the years that followed, they managed to avoid any accidents, and it seemed that their family was to stay at three. And especially once Emilie fell ill, Gabriel never would have imagined having another child, not with his wife gone and Adrien practically an adult himself.

And certainly not like this.

The thought is bizarre to him, and he feels as if he’s suffered emotional whiplash. He can’t deny that when he first learned of Nathalie’s pregnancy that his initial reaction was delight. Despite the fact that they’d never been intimate, his automatic emotional response had been to illogically assume they were having a child together. As his senses returned to him and brought him back to reality, he was devastated to realize that it was impossible for him to be the father, only for that to miraculously turn out not to be the case at all.

By now, however, it’s become clear to him that Nathalie is suffering. This pregnancy is not wanted. The guilt of it settles in the pit of him, spreading a chill through his entire body.

He realizes he hasn’t spoken. “I’m sorry,” he finally manages, not knowing what else to say. Although he couldn’t have predicted this chain of events, he feels that he is at fault. He hates himself for the little flicker of happiness and excitement that he can’t snuff out, despite Nathalie’s stricken face. It’s a selfish reaction. “I’m so sorry.”

The dam breaks once more, and she begins to cry, face buried in her hands.

Gabriel looks to the room’s other occupants helplessly. No one seems to have any advice for him.

He swallows and looks back at her. He wants to wrap his arms around her, but he’s suddenly acutely aware of how violated she must feel by the entire situation. She can hardly bear to look at him.

He keeps his distance and speaks gently. “I had no idea. I promise you, there is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not as if you could control it.” She cries harder, turning away from him. “It’s my fault,” he proclaims. “You’ve been an important part of this family for a long time; I should have made that clearer to you. If I had, then maybe this wish wouldn’t have been fulfilled.” Her crying slows, and she looks at him in confusion. He clarifies, “I hope this isn’t the wrong thing to say, but… we didn’t need a blood relative linking us for you, me, and Adrien to be a family. We already are.”

Nathalie gapes. “You think—?” She cuts herself off, eyes going wide. “Of course,” she says, a little laugh following. She sniffles. “Yes, that’s exactly how it happened. Thank you. For understanding. And for saying that. Sir.” She smiles at him, but there’s still something bitter in her words.

Gabriel sighs. “Please, call me Gabriel. You’re having my child, Nathalie. There’s no need for formalities.”

She nods curtly, seemingly still bothered.

He knows there is little he can do to fix the situation, but he hopes to make it as painless as possible. “I know nothing about this is traditional, but I’ll be there for you regardless. You won’t be alone through this,” he assures her.

“You mean… financially?” she questions. “Sir, there’s no need for that; money isn’t the—”

He flinches at the use of the honorific again, but pushes past it. “Financially, emotionally. Everything,” he says. “I won’t leave you to bear the burden alone.” He gives her an intent look. “I will do right by you. I won’t abandon you, or this child.”

Tears well up in her eyes once more. “You want to be… involved?”

“If you find that acceptable, yes.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you,” she breathes.

“You don’t have to,” he insists. “I don’t wish to be an absent father. To either of my children,” Gabriel says, throwing a glance at Adrien, who gives him a small, encouraging smile. He looks back at Nathalie. “But it’s up to you, my —” he cuts off, barely stopping himself from saying ‘dear.’ “Nathalie,” he corrects. “I won’t overstep your boundaries.”

She swipes under her eyes. “I don’t know. This is too much to decide all right now. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that there’s no getting out of this.”

“Of course,” he says, heart sinking. “We can have that conversation at a later date. There is one thing I must insist on, though. You have to come back home with us, at least until the Guardian heals you. Let us look after you until then. Please.”

Her brow takes on a worried crease, but she sighs in defeat. “I’m in no shape to do it myself,” she admits. “This is  _ not  _ a promise to move in permanently,” she warns, catching Adrien’s uplifted expression. 

“Another conversation for another time,” Gabriel agrees.

“I’ll do all I can to help right now,” Master Fu says. “But I do think it’s wise for Miss Sancœur to stay with you until I can heal her fully, just in case another medical emergency occurs.”

“Please tell me she at least won’t be throwing up blood again,” Gabriel says, realizing with a jolt that he has put his hand protectively on her shoulder without even thinking about it.

“I can stabilize her enough to minimize the worst of her symptoms, including that,” Fu confirms. “It won’t last, however,” he says, looking to her. “You’ll need to be on bedrest as soon as you return, until I can heal you entirely. And you’ll want to see a doctor for proper prenatal care.”

Nathalie nods her head, looking downtrodden. Nooroo and Duusu both fly over to comfort her.

Fu gives her a look of compassion before turning his gaze out to the rest of the humans in the room. “I think it’s best if you three step out. She needs some quiet and privacy as I treat her.”

Nathalie looks grateful at the suggestion, so Gabriel gets up to leave without protest. He, Adrien, and Marinette exit the room, a strange, uncomfortable silence hanging over them all the while.

Before long, they leave Fu’s to return to the mansion. Nathalie, who is supported by Adrien as she shuffles out, begs Gabriel to not call his driver. “Please. I can’t bear to explain to anyone else today,” she says.

Gabriel doesn’t think she’d be questioned by the quiet man, but he doesn’t fight her on the issue, not when she’s so weak and already feeling a loss of pride. He has Adrien call an Uber, and when it pulls up to the curb, Gabriel does his best to divert attention away from her, greeting the driver as enthusiastically as he can muster up and immediately asking about his day. He’s never had such a miserable conversation.

The ride is tense. Gabriel sits in the front and does his best to keep talking, so as to keep Nathalie safe from any unwanted interaction. It feels like an eternity has passed when they finally pull up to the mansion gates, but at least the journey is without incident.

Nathalie leans heavily on Adrien as they make their way inside. “Do you need my assistance?” Gabriel asks.

“No,” Nathalie answers. “I can manage by myself.”

“Don’t be silly, Nathalie,” Adrien says with a comforting smile. “Let me help you upstairs.”

Gabriel watches, feeling quite useless, as Adrien practically carries Nathalie up and off toward her room.

Meanwhile, with nothing else to do, Gabriel notices that Marinette has gone fairly quiet herself. “Are you alright, Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Her eyes scrunch closed. “That was…  _ awful,”  _ she chokes. “Really, really awful.”

As much as Gabriel’s thoughts are mostly consumed by Nathalie, he does feel sympathy and concern for the young girl beginning to cry in front of him.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” he agrees, bringing a hand to her upper back to guide her to a nearby chair. “Perhaps you should sit.”

She nods and sinks down, burying her head in her hands.

“Is there anything I can get for you?”

She shakes her head. “No. No, I just need to — to...”

Gabriel seats himself in the chair next to her and waits. Marinette lowers her hands and stares across the room, breath shuddering out from her. “I can’t get it out of my head,” she spills. “I knew she was sick, but we’d only ever seen her from a distance. I didn’t realize just how bad it was.” Her brows draw together. “I’ll never be able to forget how terrible it was when — with the blood. Or that  _ look  _ in her eye when she was backed against the wall.”

“I wish I had better words of comfort,” Gabriel laments. “All I can say is that my nightmares will be plagued by the same images as yours, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head, looking ashamed. “I barely even know her. It must be much harder for you, especially with the — the baby and everything,” she trails off, face growing red.

He brushes off his own embarrassment. “There’s no reason to feel bad,” he assures her, skirting around the issue of the pregnancy. “You’re still a child. A very competent one, but a child nonetheless. And today you saw things that no child should ever see.”

She nods, lips drawn tight. “I just hope Master Fu confirms the cure soon. I feel so bad for her.”

Gabriel sighs. “I hope the same.”

He looks up as footsteps sound above. Adrien comes down the stairs, looking shaken himself.

Gabriel jumps to his feet. “How is she?”

“Embarrassed. Tired. Sad,” Adrien relays to him with a somber face. At that moment, he notices his girlfriend’s posture. “Marinette!” he exclaims, rushing down the remaining steps. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” she says, wiping her remaining tears. “It’s just everything that happened today catching up with me.”

He gives her a grim smile. “I know how you feel. Want me to walk you home?”

She wraps her fingers around his. “Yes please.”

Adrien looks back at Gabriel. “Dad, can I—?”

“Go ahead,” Gabriel says. “Don’t stay too long if you can help it though.”

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll be back soon.” He takes Marinette by the waist and they exit.

Gabriel sinks back into his chair and waits. The minutes tick by and he grows more and more restless. Already he’s aching to see Nathalie again. He knows that big decisions can’t be made today, but he still has so many more questions.

He tries to quell his restlessness by scheduling a doctor’s appointment for her. It only takes several minutes, however, and he’s soon back to stewing in his thoughts.

He sighs, rising to his feet. He shouldn’t push too much, but at the very least, he can make sure she’s resting.

Her door is cracked open, and he peeks in. He feels a stirring in his chest as he lays his eyes on her, surprised to find that she is stroking her belly as she stares out the window. It’s much more pronounced through the thin gray t-shirt she now wears. His breath catches at the sight.

He blinks himself out of his stupor and clears his throat to announce his presence. Nathalie’s eyes are tired as they turn to him.

“Sir,” she says. “What is it?”

He takes that as an invitation to enter. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you,” he replies. His eyes zero in on her hand, still resting on top of her stomach. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh.” She removes her hand, cheeks growing pink. “It’s just a little cramping. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Gabriel’s mind jumps to the worst, however. “Are you sure? Perhaps I should get a doctor right away.”

“I’m sure,” she insists. The sternness in her voice is enough to keep him from pulling out his phone then and there. “It’s just what happens as things…” she trails off, looking for the right words, “ _ change.”  _ She frowns a little, and her voice takes on a defeated tone. “It’s perfectly normal.”

He looks down. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Is that all?” she asks, a bit of edge in her tone.

“I scheduled an appointment for you tomorrow afternoon. The doctor will come here to see you. Is that okay?”

She breathes in sharply, looking up. “I forgot about that.” She looks back to him, eyes worried. “I guess it’s best to get it over with.”

Gabriel steps closer. He rests a hand at the foot of the bed. “Would you like me to stay with you for it?”

She jolts in surprise. “I couldn’t—”

“Let me rephrase,” he says. “I would like to be there. Will you allow me to be?” She hesitates. “I understand if it’s too much,” he backs off reluctantly. “But I care about you, Nathalie.”  _ More than I can actually say. _ “And it’s my child, too.”

She looks past him, wrestling with the option as she chews her lip. She nods. “Okay,” she says. “You can come. I’m nervous,” she admits. “I could use the company.” She shifts her posture, making a face as her back cracks. She manages a small smile, accompanied by an eyeroll. “I have to adjust to this bed all over again. Especially since I’m apparently going to be in it for a while.”

Gabriel grows thoughtful. “I was wondering…” he says. “Where were you staying all this time? Please tell me you weren’t out on the streets.”

Her face is impassive. “My apartment.”

He purses his lips. “I know for a fact that isn’t true.”

“Yes, it is,” she challenges. She deflates as he remains unmoved. “How?”

“I picked the lock, of course.” She gapes at him. “Can you really blame me? It was the only place I could think of where I might find some clue as to why you left and where you went. It was a dead end, but I checked in a few times to make sure you hadn’t returned.”

“I suppose I can’t,” she says, but she still looks annoyed at this revelation. “For the most part, I was sqatting in an empty apartment on the other side of the city, on the outskirts of the 19th  _ arrondissment.  _ Not the ideal living situation, but there was still electricity and running water. I was able to cook for myself when I had the energy. It wasn’t as terrible as it could have been.”

He frowns, finding something lacking from that list. “Was there a bed?”

She turns her head sharply to look out the window. Her shoulders rise. “It wasn’t furnished,” she replies delicately.

_ “Nathalie,”  _ he exclaims in disbelief. He rubs his face, trying not to let his despair get the best of him. “Well, in that case, you most definitely need to rest.”

“I was just about to,” she retorts with a raised brow. She leans back against the pillows. As she does so, he catches sight of something white and red in the blankets next to her.

He rushes forwards, assuming it’s a bloodied tissue, but finds that it’s a pill bottle instead. His blood instantly runs cold with fear, and he grabs it quickly. “What is this?” he demands.

“Pain medication. Adrien brought them in for me. Why—?”

“How many did you take?” He fumbles with the cap, his fingers suddenly not working properly.

“Just one. It’s safe for pregnancy; it’s just acetaminophen.”

“No, no, no, no, no—” Gabriel finally gets the bottle open. He stares down at the inside. The bottle is full. His heart still pounds in his throat anyway.

“Oh my  _ God,”  _ Nathalie says. He looks up, finding her expression furious. “Are you kidding me?”

The bottle is full. She only took one. The bottle is full. “Nathalie, I—”

“What’s wrong with you? I’m not going to kill myself, especially not with fucking  _ Dafalgan.” _

“You seemed not to have any issue killing yourself before,” he snaps, adrenaline fueling the hurt and anger stirring inside him.

Her eyes water. “You  _ asshole.” _

“Am I wrong?” he shouts, slamming the cap back down. “You used the Peacock miraculous until it nearly killed you, and you did the same with the Butterfly! You almost let your own akuma obliterate you!”

“You  _ did  _ let it kill you,” she bites back. “I had to watch you die! How do you think that made  _ me  _ feel?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Nathalie. I have no idea of what you may or may not do.”

“Maybe start by trusting that I wouldn’t traumatize Adrien, or even you, by having one of you find me dead like that!”

Gabriel laughs bitterly.  _ “Trust  _ you?” He gives her a critical glare. “Any trust I had in you shattered when you drugged me in my own home and stole my miraculous off of me.”

A tear slides down her cheek, but her own glare doesn’t break. She looks at him murderously until she finally whispers, “I don’t think you should come to my appointment tomorrow.”

“Fine,” he bites, although it stings more than he would care to admit. “I don’t think I want to anymore.” He storms out. “Sleep well,” he spits, and closes the door behind him with more force than necessary.

The sound of it rings like a shot through his heart.

He breathes heavily, trying to fight the sadness welling up inside him. With determination, he pushes it down.

He finds Adrien halfway up the stairs, wide eyed. “I heard yelling.”

“Most likely,” Gabriel quips, walking past him.

“Dad, wait!” Adrien follows after him, coming to his side as he reaches the base of the stairs. “What happened? Did you guys talk it out?”

“Something like that,” Gabriel grumbles. But Adrien looks at him earnestly enough to soften his resolve. “We had an argument. I got angry. She got angry.” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was an idiot,” he admits. He raises his other hand, showing Adrien the bottle of pills. Adrien looks at him with confusion. “I accused her of trying to overdose.”

“What?” Adrien exclaims. “How many did she take?”

“See for yourself.” He tosses over the bottle.

Adrien quickly unscrews it and looks inside. “I don’t get it. It’s almost full.” He looks up to see Gabriel’s guilty expression and sighs. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” he says. “I saw her with the bottle and… it wasn’t logical. But I truly thought she was trying to hurt herself.”

Adrien sits down on the steps, rolling the bottle over in his hands. After a moment, he says, “I bet she didn’t respond well to that.”

Gabriel sits beside him. “She didn’t. It’s my own fault.” He looks up, out the big windows of their foyer. “And despite that, I’m still furious.”

“I think that’s reasonable, actually,” Adrien says. Gabriel’s eyebrows raise. “She put you through a lot. She put us  _ all  _ through a lot. Even though we love her, it’s still gonna hurt.”

Despite the ache in his heart, he smiles. “When did you get so wise?”

“Probably when I started listening to Marinette,” he says with a crooked grin.

“Ah, yes. She’s certainly the most sane of all of us,” Gabriel jokes back. The smile on his lips is short lived, though, pulled down by the heaviness in his heart.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel lies. “I should be asking you the same.”

“Me? Why?”

“For many reasons, all valid. To start, you were upset earlier. About Dejinnerate’s involvement.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s true,” Adrien says, dropping his head. He shrugs. “Well, I can’t say I’m over the whole thing. But you guys are right. There’s nothing I could have done about it, and I have to accept that. It helped to hear Marinette repeat it on the way home. The more I hear it, the more it sinks in.”

“What about the rest of it?” Gabriel presses. “I know Nathalie is like a mother to you. And now, well, I suppose you’re getting a new sibling. Albeit through very untraditional means.”

Adrien sucks in a breath. “Yeah. It’s definitely a lot to process.”

“I shouldn’t have spoken so soon about my intentions without running it by you first. If Nathalie will even allow it, if I’m involved, will that bother you?”

“No,” Adrien is quick to say. “No, I’ve always wanted a sibling. I really hope we  _ can  _ all be a family.” He deflates a little. “I feel really bad for Nathalie, though. She must be so upset. It feels wrong to be a little happy.” He shifts. “I mean, I guess I’m just realizing how much  _ worse  _ this could have been. The wish could have killed her, or, I don’t know, torn our family apart. But it’s just… a baby. A  _ baby,”  _ he breathes in wonder. “And she’s safe now, and she’ll be healed soon, and we’re all back together, and — You think about all the terrible things that could have happened, and in comparison, it feels like the best case scenario.” His face drops into a frown. “But she doesn’t see it that way. I think… she really would have rathered it killed her. But I’m  _ glad  _ it didn’t. And all of that together makes me feel…” he shrugs, a heavy sigh dropping out of him.

“I understand. I’m feeling the exact same way.”

Adrien nods. “Then I’m glad I’m not the only one conflicted.” He stretches his legs forwards, taking up a little more space as he shakes that train of thought out of him. He looks contemplatively at his toes. “Did you tell her yet?”

“Tell her what?” Gabriel asks.

Adrien stares at him as if he’s grown a second head. “That you  _ love her.” _

“Shh!” Gabriel hushes him. He looks up the stairs, relieved that there’s no movement from behind Nathalie’s closed door.

“Dad,” Adrien says, incredulous. “You have to.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gabriel says, rising to his feet. He begins to pace. “And keep your voice down.”

“This isn’t an option,” Adrien whisper-yells. “You  _ have  _ to tell her; she’s having your baby!”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly  _ what?” _

“She’s having my baby, which she is not at all happy about,” Gabriel whispers back. “There could not be a worse time to tell her.”

Adrien looks at him with disappointment. “She deserves to know.”

“She deserves to recover without added stress. Especially after my mistake just now.” He shakes his head. “I’m quite certain she would like to never look at me again after that.”

“You don’t know that,” Adrien insists, following. “She might feel the same way.”

“Adrien.” Gabriel stops, looking him evenly in the eye. “She already knows. She doesn’t.”

“So you  _ did  _ tell her.”

He sighs. “Not in so many words, but she’d have to be blind not to see it. I’ve been ‘telling her’ for months. I took a fatal hit for her.” Adrien winces. “She doesn’t see me that way,” he says. “I don’t want to put her through the pain of having to acknowledge my love for her directly. She’s been through enough without the added burden of having to reject my affections when she’s in such a vulnerable state.”

Adrien puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I won’t push it. But for the record, I still think you’re wrong about this.” He runs a hand through his hair with a frown. “So what happens now?”

“We hope that the Guardian can cure her soon. We make sure she rests.” Gabriel frowns, sighing. “I suppose I have to apologize and hope she doesn’t cut me out.”

“She probably needs some space right now,” Adrien observes. “Lay low a couple of days. I’ll try to talk to her tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Gabriel says.

“I want to,” Adrien insists. “Besides, I have my own questions for her.”

Gabriel raises a brow. “Please don’t get involved with my love life.”

Adrien shakes his head vehemently. “I won’t. I’ll just try to be there for her. And to keep the peace. For all our sakes.”

Gabriel’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out and scowls at the screen.

“Who is it?” Adrien asks, peeking over his shoulder.

“Speaking of people getting involved where they shouldn’t,” Gabriel announces, “it’s my sister again. She’s been…  _ vocal  _ lately.” He can already feel a headache coming on as he scrolls through the new messages. “Oh. This isn’t good.”

“Oh,  _ merde,”  _ Adrien says. Victoire’s reputation precedes her. “Tabloids?”

“With photos.”

“Nathalie in them?”

“Of course. With you, and I, and Marinette. Clearly not on business.”

Adrien goes pale and comes behind him to look at the screen properly. “Can you tell she’s pregnant?”

“No,” Gabriel is thankful to say, showing Adrien the screenshots sent to him. “The view is obstructed. But tabloids will be tabloids.”

“And Aunt Victoire will be Aunt Victoire,” Adrien grumbles. “What did she say?”

“The usual. That I’m dating down. That I’ve found another golddigger. That I’m bringing shame to the family name. That it’s an HR nightmare — well, that one is true.”

“Oh  _ God.” _

Gabriel gives him a stern look. “You understand that Nathalie cannot find out about this.”

“I know. It would be devastating.” Adrien looks up and asks, “What do we do? You know what comes next — she’s gonna visit the house.”

“That can’t happen,” Gabriel says sharply. “She’ll tear Nathalie to shreds.” He slides his phone back into his pocket and begins pacing once more. “We have to prevent her from coming here entirely.” He winces as he works through his limited options. “I’ll have to go on a few well-publicized dates with wealthy socialites. That should keep her off our backs for at least a little while.”

Adrien makes a face.

“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Gabriel says. “The very thought makes me squirm. But…” he stops and looks up the stairs, towards Nathalie’s door. The idea of Victoire getting her claws in her is even worse.

“I’ll play along, too,” Adrien says, drawing Gabriel’s eyes back to him. “I’ll give her a call, say hello, gossip,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll even do extra photoshoots. A good magazine spread always calms her down a little.”

“Are you sure?” Gabriel asks.

“Are  _ you  _ sure?” Adrien retorts. “I’m sure the last thing you want to be doing right now is going on dates with people like — like  _ Audrey Bourgeois.” _

“I owe André a great debt for taking her off the market.” The joke falls flat, and he huffs, “Of course I’m less than pleased, Adrien, but I’m not letting that  _ witch  _ come in and torment her.”

Adrien’s eyes are soft and thoughtful. “I know. We can’t let it happen. So,” he says, straightening up and looking Gabriel in the eye, “I’m sure, too.” He holds out his hand. “For Nathalie.”

Gabriel accepts it and shakes. “For Nathalie.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: accusation of suicide attempt, accusation of overdose
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> So. First impressions of Victoire?


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with Victoire causes a whole new set of problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More beautiful fanart. Thank you bela-salata!  
https://bela-salata.tumblr.com/post/190684248311/another-swallowtail-fanart-for-mymayura
> 
> Sweetandsaltymari also did an amazing Quan Yin. Thank you!  
https://sweetnsaltymari.tumblr.com/post/190334517781/my-take-on-mymayura-s-ladybugpeacock-miraculous

_Please excuse me while I overanalyze the things you said._

🦋

Avoiding a Victoire disaster  _ and  _ keeping the peace with Nathalie proves to be easier said than done.

Right away, Gabriel gets off on the wrong foot when he confiscates Nathalie’s tablet. Victoire has emailed her work account before to complain in the past, and he doesn’t trust her to not use it to harass her this time around. That morning, he changes the passwords to all the company accounts and goes up to Nathalie’s room to take the tablet, hopefully before she wakes.

She’s already sitting up in bed, however, looking at him with an unamused expression. “Care to explain?” she asks, turning the tablet around to show him her “incorrect password” screen.

He’d rather not. “Thank you,” he says, taking it from her in one swoop.

“Hey!” She exclaims. She gives him a dangerous look as he backs away. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry, dear, it’s for your own good.”

“What’s next? My phone?”

“Of course not,” he insists. “Your personal device is your personal device. But there’s no reason for you to be dealing with any company business while you’re recovering.”

“So, I’m fired then.” She shakes her head bitterly.

“No,” he says, even though he has plenty of legitimate reasons to fire her if he wanted to, especially after months of absence from work. “Think of it as… mandatory paid leave.”

She fumes. “Is this how it’s going to be now? You’re going to hover over me? Control every aspect of my life? You can’t do that! You may be the father of my child, but you are  _ not  _ in charge of my choices.”

“It’s for your own good, Nathalie,” he says, unable to meet her eye. “And I think you’ll find that decisions regarding  _ my  _ company are still  _ mine  _ to make.”

After that, Nathalie refuses to speak cordially with him, not unless he grants her access again, which is the one thing he can’t do. Eventually, he stops trying to get through to her, fearing that his unwelcome presence in her room is only adding to her stress.

But Gabriel doesn’t want to isolate her. At his request, Adrien is more than happy to spend increasing time with Nathalie in her room, even through his disappointment of Gabriel not doing it himself. As days go by, turning into weeks, Gabriel sees Adrien less around the house, but he hears chattering floating from Nathalie’s room. Adrien stops taking his meals at the table and starts taking them at Nathalie’s side.

Gabriel eats alone.

That is, on the days that he stays in. Gabriel has a fuller schedule than he’s dealt with in years, filled mostly with social outings with high-class women that he would do nearly anything to not take part in. But the threat of Victoire paying a visit hangs over his head, and for Nathalie’s sake, he goes through with it.

He is polite, but detached. After all, he’s certainly not looking for a real relationship, just enough interaction to throw his sister off his scent. Over the next two weeks, he goes on several dates with wealthy women of his ‘status.’ His first date, Orane, is perfectly lovely, but there’s no connection. He almost feels bad to mislead her as she’s a widow herself, just stepping back into the dating scene. He can’t say the same for his next two dates, who are nearly unbearable. Mallory is a spoiled brat who never grew up despite being several years older than he, and Victoire’s friend Adelise has an attitude that rivals Audrey Bourgeois’s.

Despite this, he plasters on a smile and acts the perfect gentleman. If word gets back to Victoire from any of them that it wasn’t a legitimate date, the plan is ruined and she’ll be at their doorstep within a day.

If he’d had any doubts about whether he was justified to cut Nathalie off from the company accounts, however, they are quickly quelled. He finds himself deleting multiple emails per day from Victoire despite his good behavior, all of them asking invasive questions and making demands. Still, he seems to be able to keep a visit at bay by playing the part. She complains, but that’s all she does. He’s able to keep the situation from escalating, if only just barely.

In the household itself, though, the awkwardness between Gabriel and Nathalie only grows. She’s noticeably pregnant at this point, a physical reminder of the complicated history and barriers that keep them from being on good terms now. Not to mention that he is maddened further by being kept in the dark.

He begs Adrien to keep him updated on what the doctor says, as he knows that Nathalie has begun to open up to his son. “I don’t need medical details,” Gabriel says when Adrien hesitates to divulge any information. “Just tell me whether I should be worried.”

“Whatever Fu did, it’s holding up for now,” Adrien assures him. “The doctor was surprised that Nathalie’s ‘general practitioner’ suggested full bedrest at all. The baby is doing well, too.”

He sighs in relief. “Good. She hasn’t talked of her plans at all, has she?”

“No,” Adrien says with a frown. “Most of the time she just ignores that she’s pregnant at all. She gets really quiet whenever I bring it up.”

Gabriel’s shoulders slump. “I see.”

“You could fix it, though,” Adrien says, suddenly seeming frustrated. “Please, Dad, talk to her. I’m worried. She’s not okay.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Gabriel says simply. “She’s mad about the misunderstanding with the pills, she’s mad about me being the father, and she’s mad about the tablet. She won’t talk to me unless I give her access again. Which I can’t do, for obvious reasons.” He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t expect me to do that, do you?”

“No, of course not,” Adrien exclaims. “If Aunt Victoire reaches out to her, she’ll be crushed. She’s so upset already; she doesn’t need the extra embarrassment from whatever lecture she’d be given.”

“That’s the only way that she’ll talk to me, Adrien. Since I can’t meet her demands, my hands are tied. I’m not any happier about it than you are.”

“Please. If you tell her how you feel, she might listen! It might change things!”

“How?” Gabriel demands. “What would it change other than making us both more miserable than before? My answer is ‘no.’”

“But —”

“That’s enough, Adrien,” Gabriel snaps.

Adrien recoils with wide eyes before schooling his expression into a cold, blank slate. “Alright. I understand. Father.”

“Adrien—” Gabriel sighs, but his son has already turned and is marching back up to Nathalie’s room. He shuts the door with more force than necessary.

He groans, rubbing his temples. It seems that everyone hates him now.

And he can’t blame Adrien entirely. Because of Nathalie’s refusal to speak with Gabriel, Adrien has become her caretaker in many ways, which is a lot of responsibility on a fifteen-year-old boy. Gabriel understands why he is frustrated, even if he disagrees with his proposed solution.

So when Adrien comes up to him one night and asks to go over to Nino’s for a sleepover, Gabriel finds it difficult to say no. After all, Adrien is looking at him with a glint of challenge in his eye, and Gabriel can’t help but think that this is a test that he cannot afford to fail right now.

“Who else will be there?” he asks.

“Just Nino and I,” Adrien says. “It’s not a party or anything; we just want to watch movies and hang out.”

“Will his parents be home?”

“Of course.”

Gabriel purses his lips. Sleepovers were never an event that he allowed before, not liking the idea of his child being potentially unsupervised for so long. But it turns out that Adrien has spent a lot of time unsupervised, mostly fighting Gabriel himself with magic jewelry. This whole ordeal is Gabriel’s fault, after all, and Adrien is tired and frustrated. He deserves a chance to get out of the house and relax. “Text me his parents’ phone number when you get there.”

Adrien relaxes a little. “Okay, I will.” He pulls a face. “I know she’s not happy with you, but can you check on Nathalie before you go to bed? I usually stop in to talk or play some games with her.”

His heart rate picks up a bit. “Yes, I’ll manage.” He tries to smile, though he thinks he’s failed. “Go have fun. And thank you for looking after her so much.”

“It’s no issue. I love Nathalie. I want her to feel better.” Adrien gives him a small smile. “But I could definitely use a break. I’m going to go pack my overnight bag.” He bounds up the stairs two at a time, taking a quick detour to Nathalie’s room, likely to tell her where he’s going.

Not long after, Adrien leaves. Gabriel brings dinner up to Nathalie, who is reading a book as he comes in.

“Anything good?” he asks, shooting a glance as she bookmarks her page and sets it down.

“It’s okay.” She stares at him, clearly unwilling to expand on that.

“I brought dinner,” he says. “It’s your favorite tonight.”

“Great.” She crosses her arms as he sets the dish down on the bed tray table he’d gotten for her as soon as she’d come back to the house, and he delivers the set to her.

“Would you like me to eat with you tonight?”

“No.”

“Can I bring you anything else?”

“No.”

He sighs and leaves.

When he goes in to collect her tray, she gives him the silent treatment, and refuses to meet his eyes. He accepts defeat and doesn’t try to interact any further.

He goes to bed in a foul mood and struggles to fall into a deep sleep under the circumstances. He is, of course, worried and sad for Nathalie, but the strain in their relationship has reached the point where he can’t push down his own negative feelings. It hurts, badly, that their trust in each other is so fractured that they’re barely even speaking. And as he is powerless to fix it, he finds himself frustrated with Nathalie for not extending an olive branch. These thoughts weigh heavy inside him and keep him tethered to semi-consciousness.

At some point during the night, he is startled fully awake from his restless sleep. He turns on his light and looks around, trying to figure out the source of his sudden call to consciousness, but finding nothing. The house is mostly silent, only making the smallest of sounds as the heat clicks on.

Still, there’s a weight in Gabriel’s mind that he can’t shake. Reluctantly, he leaves the warmth of his bed and pads down the hall with the intention of checking to make sure that Nathalie isn’t hurt or ill.

He knocks lightly on the door, only enough for her to hear if she’s awake. After receiving no response, he pushes it open a crack and peeks inside.

He freezes as he takes in the state of the bed. The covers are thrown back and there’s no one occupying it. Nathalie isn’t there.

He tries to calm his panicking heart, reasoning that she’s likely just gotten up to use the adjoining bathroom. However, when he enters the bedroom to look at the door that connects them, he finds it ajar and the bathroom empty too. “Nathalie,” he says to the vacant room. His breath shudders in his chest at the lack of response.

At that moment, he hears clattering from outside the room. He rushes back into the hall, looking desperately around. A flash of movement from below catches his eye, and he finally locates Nathalie at the bottom of the stairs, wheeling a suitcase behind her.

“Nathalie!” he calls. She flinches and walks faster towards the door. “Nathalie, wait!” He runs down the stairs two at a time to intercept her. He manages to make it to the door before her, blocking her path.

“Get out of my way,” she growls, and he’s shocked to see a level of fury in her eyes that he hasn’t witnessed from her before. “I’m leaving, and you can’t stop me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She ignores him, looking down to zipper her coat. She lets out a huff of annoyance as the zipper stops, stuck at the peak of her belly. She tries again, becoming distressed as the coat refuses to zipper over her growing bump. “Come on!” she exclaims. The zipper sticks again. Her breaths become shallower and tears spring to her eyes as it refuses to cooperate.

“Nathalie.” Gabriel reaches out and stops her from trying her hopeless task again. “Where are you going? Why?” She tries to push past him, having given up on zipping her coat, but he stands firm in her way. “You can’t go out. Especially not in the middle of the night, but beyond that, you’re supposed to be on bedrest for your own safety.”

“Don’t pretend as if you care,” she snaps. “Now  _ move.”  _ She reaches around him to unlock the door.

“Don’t be ridiculous; of course I care.” He stands firm, refusing to let her push him out of the way to exit. “Please, Nathalie, let me help you back to bed. Let’s talk about this like rational adults rather than —”

“Stop. Just stop!” she cries. “I don’t want to hear it. You treat me like a child, you sic your sister on me, and then you want to pretend to be reasonable?” She pushes him again. “Let me  _ out!” _

Gabriel’s brain struggles to catch up. “Sic my…?” He freezes. “What did Victoire do?”

“As if you don’t know,” she snarls.

He opens his mouth to deny it, but stops, recognizing he’s not going to get anywhere. “Humor me. And I’ll let you go.”

She shakes her head at him. “You’re...  _ cruel,” _ she says, and his heart aches. She reaches into her pocket to pull out her phone. “Do I have to embarrass myself further by reading it to you, or can you manage yourself?” she asks, thrusting it towards him. She turns away and coughs into her elbow.

He takes the phone and silently reads through the texts she’s pulled up. She doesn’t have a contact saved in her phone, but his heart sinks as he recognizes the number as Victoire’s. “She got your personal number?”

“Yes,  _ somehow.  _ I  _ wonder  _ who could have given it to her.”

“I didn’t. I swear, I —” He blinks down at the screen. Victoire has sent Nathalie a series of pictures of him out on dates, all deceivingly intimate in appearance. After six images, there is a long text that reads, “My brother is too cowardly to tell you himself, but you have been nothing but a burden to this family. If the photos aren’t enough to convince you, let me assure you that Gabriel has confided in me that he can’t bring himself to cut you loose, but he sorely wishes he could. Do what’s best for this family, Nathalie, and for yourself. It’s time for you to leave Gabriel, leave the company, and let my poor brother live his life.”

Gabriel stops, stunned by what he has just read. “This is…” He trails off, unable to find the words.

“I’ll save you the trouble of ‘cutting me loose,’” she says, wiping her eyes.

“No. No, don’t,” he begs, turning off the phone’s screen. “Nathalie, it’s not what you think.”

She laughs bitterly. “Of course it’s not. Look,  _ sir,  _ I couldn’t care less about the implied infidelity as we’re not together, despite whatever impression you’ve left Victoire with. But could you not wait until your child is born before searching for a new wife?” She glares at him, challenging him equally with her eyes as with her words. “It’s…  _ disrespectful.  _ And humiliating.” She rubs her chest, letting out a few closed-mouthed coughs.

“Nathalie, please, you know you can’t trust anything my sister says. You’ve had to deal with her before.”

Nathalie looks unsure, taking in his words, but her expression turns determined once more. “That may be true, but pictures don’t lie, even if Victoire does.”

“I didn’t want to. I—” He cuts off, realizing how weak his defense sounds. Instead, he pulls his own phone from the pocket of his robe and pulls up his texts with Victoire. “Please. Read it. It’s the other half of the picture.”

With a huff, she accepts the phone and reads, brows furrowing as she gets further down the page, and then finally raising as she reaches the bottom. “Is this supposed to help your case?” she challenges. “Am I supposed to  _ thank you?  _ She told you that you could do better than me, and you seem intent on proving her right.”

_ “Yes,”  _ he says, “but not for the reasons you think.”

“You’re ashamed of me.” She drops her gaze, unable to look at him.

“No,” he insists. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. You remember how it was years ago whenever Victoire had an issue with Emilie. What was the first thing she always did when we didn’t instantly cave to her demands?”

Nathalie winces. “She paid a visit to the house.”

“Exactly. Adrien and I have been trying for weeks to get her off our backs. We thought —  _ I  _ thought that if I played along and tried to squash her suspicions that she’d leave you alone. I was trying to keep her from coming here to harass you; it’s why I took your tablet too. I never thought — Please, Nathalie. I was trying to protect you. I’m sorry that it backfired.”

She still eyes him with suspicion, but she asks, “The dates weren’t real?”

A little part of him aches. He wishes that her issue with the dates were rooted in jealousy, as selfish as that is of him. “No. And apparently they weren’t very convincing if Victoire still decided to intimidate you.” He takes a cautious step towards her. “I know it would be disrespectful, even though we’re not… involved.” And oh, he wishes they were.

She blinks, purses her lips, and finally nods, though she still regards him with distrust. She melts against the wall, the fire in her dimming out.

He sighs, relieved that they finally seem to have broken some of the tension between them. “Will you come back upstairs now? We can discuss how to handle my sister if you’d like.”

She nods again, silent.

“I’ll take your suitcase up,” he says, grabbing it from her. He begins to walk towards the stairs, but stops and turns as he becomes aware that she’s not following him. “Nathalie?”

“Just a second,” she rasps, followed by rough coughing. “I —” She grips the doorframe to steady herself. “I don’t feel well. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

He rushes back towards her. “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” she says between coughs. “It’s just a tickle.”

“It sounds worse than that,” he says, filling with concern.

She continues to cough, gasping for air when she can. She breaks off into a moan, legs trembling as she bends over. “Oww.”

“Nathalie?” Gabriel exclaims, totally useless. He reaches out to steady her, but beyond that, he doesn’t know what to do. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t — ahhh!” She breaks at the waist, clutching her middle. “Noth—nothing. It’s just a cramp.” She lets out a hiss of air, tears springing to her eyes.

“That’s more than a cramp,” he insists, fully alarmed now. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know,” she wheezes, curling in on herself further. She begins to cough again. “I don’t — know.” She lets out another pained sound, her grip on the doorframe causing it to creak.

Gabriel sees the second her knees fail to keep her upright, and he’s quick enough to break her fall. “Nathalie!” he exclaims.

“It hurts,” she moans.

“Adrien!” Gabriel calls. “Help! Ad—” he stops, remembering with horror that Adrien isn’t there. “No, no, no. Oh  _ merde.”  _ At a loss of what else to do, Gabriel scoops Nathalie off the ground and runs up the stairs to get her back to bed.

She doesn’t respond to him once he’s laid her down, and he’s not sure whether it’s due to delirium from the pain or if she’s lost consciousness. Either way, her pain has not left her, as she twitches and sobs in whatever state she’s in.

“What do I do?” Gabriel asks, to no one in particular. The first thought that comes to mind, once nobody answers, is that he  _ desperately  _ misses having Nooroo and Duusu around. For the first time in a long time, he is truly alone. And he has no idea how to deal with that.

His first possible solution is to call Adrien, but he doesn’t think he can. There’s too much at risk; Nino is bound to ask questions that Adrien won’t be able to answer, and the last thing their family needs is more suspicion directed towards them.

He opens his phone with shaking hands, looking for someone,  _ anyone,  _ who can help. He curses the Guardian for refusing to give him his number as he scrolls through useless contacts. He becomes aware of what a mess his life is, as he realizes that other than Adrien and Nathalie, all the top contacts in his phone are business partners and colleagues. Not a single friend. The further he gets down the list, the more desperate he becomes.

He breaks into frustrated tears, coming close to the end of his list. He prays for a Hail Mary, someone he’s overlooked in his panic, knowing that otherwise, he’ll have to take the risk and call his son, potentially putting all their identities in danger.

And suddenly, one appears.

He hadn’t even remembered putting this number into his phone. He supposes it was a couple of years ago, back when he was running contests for his company, but he can’t be sure.

He breathes heavily, fingers hovering over his screen. And then he does what every scared Parisian would do in their moment of need if they were given the chance.

He calls Ladybug.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
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> Please just make sure to be polite to other readers.
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>   
Is Nathalie going to be okay?


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette steps in to help at a desperate time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! I have a bit of news. Throwing Up These Butterflies is going to be on a brief hiatus/slower update schedule. This is for two exciting reasons, so I hope this isn't too disappointing. The first reason for this is because I have written a behind-the-scenes one shot that takes place during Chapter 9, from Nathalie's point of view. This will take the place of a normal chapter update. If you're not subscribed to my author's page or to the TUTB series, I'd recommend you do so, so you don't miss it!
> 
> The second reason for the delay is because I am going to be taking part in a very cool challenge that some of my friends over at the Gabenath Book Club server are running — the Gabenath Mini Bang! I'm not allowed to say much about the story itself, but this event is going to be very cool. I strongly encourage my fellow writers and also fanartists to check it out: [Gabenath Mini Bang](https://gabenathminibang.tumblr.com.)
> 
> I'll try to keep you all updated as best as I can about the TUTB schedule. Please know that I am not abandoning this story by any means. 
> 
> And finally, here's some great Swallowtail fanart by duusudreaming: [Swallowtail](https://www.instagram.com/p/B7_HRkOFpai/)
> 
> Enjoy!

🦋

Each ring of the phone is agony.

Gabriel tries to hold onto the hope that is slipping fast away from him as he watches Nathalie’s labored breathing and hears her whimpers of pain. It’s incredibly late. What will he do if Marinette doesn’t pick up? Does he call Adrien and hope that Nino doesn’t notice or ask about the call? Does he get an ambulance? All he knows is that every cry from Nathalie is like a knife to the heart, and if he doesn’t get her help soon… 

But miraculously, Marinette picks up. “Mister Agreste?” she asks in a sleepy voice. “That you?”

“Yes,” he breathes.

“Why?” she grumbles, still sounding not fully with it.

He feels as if he should apologize for waking her, but his mouth speaks before his brain can pull together any tactful approach. “It’s Nathalie. She’s in so much pain, Adrien is at his friend Nino’s house, I don’t know what to do.”

There’s a crackle on the line, followed by silence. “Did anything happen to set it off?” she asks, sounding instantly sharper.

“We had a misunderstanding. She got out of bed; she was trying to leave. I have no idea how long she was up for before I caught her.”

“Did you call Master Fu?”

“No. He gave me no way of contacting him.”

Marinette curses under her breath. “I told him — Okay, tell me what’s wrong. I’ll call him.”

Gabriel briefly runs through the situation, listing Nathalie’s symptoms.

“I’ll pass it on,” Marinette says. A beep right after signifies the call has ended. 

Gabriel swallows, looking at the black screen. He turns back to Nathalie, whose face is twisted in pain.

“Nathalie?” He runs his hand lightly along her cheek. She doesn’t respond. He stares, as if the intensity of his gaze could will her pain away, but nothing changes.

After what feels like an eternity, his phone rings again.

“Yes?”

“Master Fu is on his way there,” Marinette says. “What can I do to help? Do I need to come over?”

“No, no,” he assures her, even though he could very much use the comfort of an ally right now. “You shouldn’t be out in the middle of the night, even as you-know-who.” He hesitates. “There’s one thing that would help; could you get a hold of Adrien and let him know what’s happening? It has to be subtle so his friend doesn’t get suspicious.”

“We have burner phones. For our… extracurriculars,” she says. “He’ll know to be discreet. Is there anything else?”

“Let Fu know that the front door is unlocked,” he says, grateful that he hadn’t thought to lock back up before suggesting to go upstairs. “I’ll open the gates,” he says, putting the phone on speaker so he can pull up the home security app and open the front gates. “Tell him to let himself in and come right up. I don’t — I can’t leave her like this.”

“Of course,” Marinette says softly. “Texting him right now.” Gabriel shudders, and somehow Marinette must sense it even through the phone because she follows up with, “She’ll be okay, Mister Agreste. Master Fu can fix it.”

“Can he?” Gabriel blurts. “He still hasn’t come up with a proper cure; the best he can do is stabilize her again, if he can even do that with the damage done.”

“He  _ can,”  _ Marinette says firmly. “I know it seems bad, but you heard what he said. Her condition is not as bad as it looks.” She pauses. “She is not going to die tonight,” she tells him, finally saying the words that he’s been waiting for.

His eyes fall closed and he lets out a long sigh. “I’ll hold you to that, Ladybug,” he says, his tone coming out artificially even.

“Okay,” she says. “That’s a bet I’ll take.”

They both fall quiet. After a few minutes, the silence is broken by the sound of the front door. “He’s here,” Gabriel says.

“Good. I’ll get a hold of Adrien now, okay?”

“Yes. And Marinette… thank you.”

As he hangs up, he grabs Nathalie’s hand, leaning over her again. “It’ll be okay,” he whispers. He’s not sure whether he’s telling himself or her. He sighs, leaning back, and calls out, “In here, Master Fu.”

The Guardian walks in a moment later. “Mister Agreste,” he acknowledges. He lays a bag on the bedside table and immediately begins pulling out supplies and books.

“Did Marinette tell you —?”

“Yes. What were you thinking, letting her strain herself like that?” The Guardian says, fire lighting in his eyes. “My instructions were very clear, Mister Agreste: full bedrest.”

“I didn’t  _ let  _ her, she was trying to —” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just tell me that you can help her.”

The Guardian’s eyes narrow. “I can restabilize her.” He glances toward the door. “Leave us.”

Gabriel’s breath hitches. His limbs lock. He tries to protest, but he can’t find the words to explain the terrorizing fear at the thought of leaving Nathalie’s side.

But Fu loses some of his firmness. “Or fine, stay. But you must be silent.”

Numbly, Gabriel nods, and sinks down into the nearest chair, fingertips trembling.

He is at full attention as Fu works for minutes upon minutes, taking in every little detail. He watches Nathalie’s expression throughout, waiting for her to get better and praying she doesn’t get worse instead. It’s slow, barely noticeable, but as the Guardian casts his spell, a tense muscle in her brow recedes. And then another. Her tears begin to dry up, and her expression unscrews itself little by little. As Fu chants the last few words, Nathalie’s face has taken on the peaceful mask of sleep.

Gabriel continues to stare, waiting. It isn’t until several moments later that, with a jolt, he realizes Fu is packing up to leave.

Gabriel springs up from his chair and demands, “Is she okay? Is she—?”

“The magic in her has been restabilized,” Fu says. “But —”

“And the baby?”

Fu blinks at him. “The baby is fine.  _ But _ every incident like this puts them both at further risk.” Fu zips his bag closed and slings it over his shoulder. “Whatever is causing this stress, you need to solve it. I was able to prevent any harm this time, but if this happens again, I can make no promises. The more times I cast the spell, the more fragile it is. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Gabriel breathes. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“You need to do better,” the Guardian says sharply. “It may be at personal discomfort to you, but it is of the utmost importance.”

“I made a mistake,” Gabriel says, “and believe me, I regret it dearly. We had a misunderstanding. I believe we cleared it up before the incident occurred, but…” His eyes narrow. “Don’t think I haven’t been trying. I’ve made poor decisions, yes, but I’m doing everything in my power to keep her safe.”

“Are you really?” Fu challenges.

“Of course I am,” Gabriel insists, his blood boiling once again at the Fu’s judgment. “Don’t think I take this lightly, Guardian. I care.”

“But do you care enough?”

“I love her; I can’t care more than that,” Gabriel snaps.

There’s movement from the bed. Gabriel freezes, barely daring to look at Nathalie out of the corner of his eye. She rolls onto her side with a murmur, but she doesn’t wake. Feeling seeps back into his body.

Fu is looking at him with raised brows. “I admit that I wasn’t aware of that. To be honest, I hadn’t even entertained the thought.” He gives him a calculating look. “But love is not enough, Mister Agreste. Anyone can love. The real question is whether you have the patience, compassion, and selflessness to make it count.”

Gabriel is quiet. He looks back at Nathalie, finding nothing else to say.

“You have much to think about,” Master Fu says. “I’ll leave you with a final warning, though: This  _ cannot _ happen again. The magic in her is even more deeply twisted than before, all knotted up and tangled inside. If it acts up again, there’s no going back. I won’t be able to save her.” With a final nod, the Guardian walks out the door, leaving Gabriel stunned and filled with dread.

Slowly and shakily, as if he were a faulty piece of machinery, Gabriel staggers over to Nathalie’s bedside and falls to his knees. His trembling hand grapples for her own as he presses his forehead into the edge of the mattress. Holding onto her as if she was his last lifeline, he lets out a sob.

The dam breaks and he cries. The full effect of the Guardian’s words rattle around inside of him, dislodging his organs and leaving him in disarray. He can barely breathe as tears stream continuously out of him and sobs wrack his body. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He cries for a long while, at least he thinks so, but with the combined stress of Nathalie’s collapse and the inherently disorienting nature of the dead of night, he’s left without much sense of time. Eventually though, there is a soft, confused, “Gabriel?” and Nathalie’s fingers curl in his.

He holds on tighter and cries harder.

“Gabriel.” She draws his hand closer to her body. “What happened?” Her tone, typically crisp, is cloaked with drowsiness.

He tries to pull himself together, finally daring to look at her. He opens his mouth to answer, but she seems to remember a moment before he can say anything, her eyes going wide in realization.

“I collapsed. I — no.” Her free hand flies to her belly. “The baby. Gabriel, I have no idea—”

“Fu came. The baby is okay. You’re okay.” He stays strong long enough to deliver his message, but once the last words leave his lips, he falls back into tears.

Her fingers twitch between his. “Then why are you crying?” His shoulders only shake harder. “Gabriel.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and it’s not an answer, but those are the words clawing to get out of him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He pulls her hand back towards him and speaks apologies into her palm.

“You’re scaring me,” she says, and that’s enough to finally start to pull him back. Gentle fingers slide into his hair and begin to run through. “I’ve never seen you like this. Not even after —” She pulls gently at his hair.  _ “Never.” _

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he manages to choke out. “And it would have been my fault.” The hand in his hair falters for a moment. “I can’t lose you, Nathalie, I can’t. I —” He cuts off, barely able to stop himself from telling her the dreaded truth of his feelings. “You’re my best friend,” he finally whispers, and that much is true, even if it isn’t the entire picture. “My only friend. I  _ can’t  _ lose you.”

“Oh, Gabriel,” she breathes, and his heart pounds a mile a minute. The bed creaks, and she leans forward to cup his face with both hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers.

She wipes his tears away, even though they are quickly replaced by new ones. He blinks his eyes open, surprised and touched to find that hers are full of tenderness.

“You’re my best friend, too,” she says. “That’s what makes this whole thing a hundred times harder than it would be otherwise. I don’t want to lose you either.”

“You won’t,” he promises. “I know I’ve made countless horrible mistakes, but please. If you can, forgive me, Nathalie. I don’t want us to be at odds anymore.”

She hesitates. “I’m still furious at you. All this drama with Victoire could have been avoided if you’d just  _ talked  _ to me in the first place.”

“I know.”

“I understand why you did it. I really do.” She pulls back slightly, hands coming to cover his. “I know how you think, Gabriel. It makes all too much sense to me, even if it was a terrible idea. But the fact is that you are going to have to learn to trust me again if we are ever going to move forward from this.”

“I trust you,” he says. “I know I’ve been utterly idiotic. I swear, I trust you.”

She shakes her head at him. “You don’t, but I can at least appreciate that you’re willing to try.” She sinks back against the pillows. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” she decides wearily. “I miss you.”

He breathes deeply, endlessly grateful for this second chance he’s been given. “You may not believe me, and I accept that. But I want you to know that hiding the Victoire situation was never about not trusting you. For once, I didn’t want to put the burden on your shoulders. I thought I could handle it. I was wrong.”

She glances down, looking at their hands. “I appreciate that.”

Gabriel searches for the right words, but at that moment his phone begins to ring, “It’s Adrien,” he announces, standing. “He’s probably worried sick.”

“Pick up,” she says, looking as if she wants to jump up and accept the call herself.

Gabriel brings his phone to his ear. “Adrien.”

“Dad!” he exclaims. “Marinette texted me, Nino’s asleep, I’m in another room. What happened? I should come home, I should —”

“Adrien. Everything’s okay.” He pauses, listening to Adrien’s heavy breathing on the other end. “The Guardian came and cast the spell again. Nathalie is doing well.” He glances over at her again, just to be totally sure.

“Are you sure? Dad, I really think I should come home.”

Nathalie gestures for the phone, and Gabriel nods. “She’s okay, son,” he says softly. “She’s alert and awake right next to me. She wants to speak with you.” He hands the phone over.

“Adrien,” Nathalie says. “No, he’s telling the truth. Yes, Adrien, really. Yes, the baby too. No, no pain anymore. We had a little misunderstanding, we can talk about it tomorrow,” she says, glancing up at Gabriel, whose shoulders sink. Her cheeks go slightly flushed. “Yes, I think we’ve made up now.” A little smile creeps onto her face. “That’s very sweet. But no, I want you to stay at Nino’s and have a good time. Don’t worry, everything’s okay now.” She pauses, listening again. This time, her face goes even redder. She glances at Gabriel, and then away again. “I love you, too,” she says in a near-whisper, as if that will prevent Gabriel from overhearing. “Goodnight.” She hangs up and hands the phone back.

“He was worried,” Gabriel says.

“Yes, but he’s better now. I convinced him to finish his sleepover. He had trouble accepting that I’m fine.”

Fu’s words suddenly come back to him, weighing on his shoulders. “Nathalie, there’s something I have to tell you. The Guardian said that he was able to fix everything this time. But he said that if this happens again…” He swallows, shaking his head.

Nathalie just sighs heavily, absentmindedly stroking her belly. “I suspected as much. I’ll be more careful,” she says with an even stare.

“Please. If, God forbid, something like this happens again, don’t try to run away. Talk to me.”

“I will,” she promises. “But no more secrets.”

He swallows, aware of the one very big secret looming over him. “If there are any more problems like this,” he says, choosing his words carefully, “I will tell you.”

She nods, face stretching into a yawn. She blinks at him with bleary eyes. “I should sleep.”

“I should go.” Neither of them move.

“Gabriel?”

“I don’t want to,” he admits in a whisper.

“Then don’t.” She hesitates before patting the empty space next to her on the bed.

His heart jumps into his throat. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to be alone after that.”

Carefully, as if the earth could shift beneath him and come crumbling down, he makes his way around the side of the bed and climbs in. They’re only inches apart, and at the same time, it feels like there is a whole world between them.

“I’m sorry, too,” Nathalie whispers, breaking the silence. “For not telling you. For running. For —” She screws her eyes shut. “For drugging you, and stealing from you, and betraying you in every way.” Silent tears trace down her cheeks. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Gabriel leans in to wipe them away. “It’s in the past,” he says, grabbing her hand. He can’t say that he’s forgiven her either, but he wants to. “Let’s just move forward, Nathalie. Neither of us can change what’s been done.”

She sniffs, nodding. She leans back again, snuggling into her pillow. Her breaths slow, becoming calmer, and her hand squeezes his. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she giggles.

“What?”

She closes her eyes, a rare smile spreading across her face. “The baby is kicking. I’ll never get used to the way it feels.”

Gabriel rolls onto his side, automatically reaching out his hand before stopping himself. Nathalie’s eyes dart to his outstretched hand, and his heart drops. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

To his surprise, she grabs his hand. “It’s okay,” she says, her face somehow warm in the dim light of the moon. She brings his hand to her belly, and his own stomach flips with nerves and the sudden rush of love. “Do you feel it?”

He waits, focusing all his attention on the sensations under his palm, even closing his eyes. But all he feels is the gentle rise and fall of Nathalie’s breath. “No.”

She guides his hand a little bit lower. “I think the feet are here. Now?”

Still, he can’t sense any motion under his hand. He shakes his head in disappointment as he opens his eyes.

She sighs, pulling the corners of her mouth into a sympathetic expression. “It’s still relatively early to feel anything from the outside. I’m sure it’ll happen soon.” Her hand remains draped over his, and he doesn’t attempt to pull it away, happy to have this connection with his future child, even if he can’t feel it kicking underneath.

The persistent little smile on Nathalie’s face leaves him in utter awe, as it’s so different from what he’s been allowed to see in these past few weeks. “You seem so content; I thought you didn’t want the baby,” he says, without thinking about it.

Her face goes stoney, and he instantly knows that in eleven little words, he’s ruined everything again.

“I don’t.” But then, luckily, her features soften again. “I  _ didn’t.”  _ She looks at him seriously, but not unkindly, even though he’s most definitely put his foot in his mouth. “When I found out, I was nine weeks along,” she reveals. “Emilie had just passed. You were mourning,  _ I  _ was mourning, and I felt so guilty and ashamed to be connected to you so intimately at a time like that. It was impossible for this to end well.” She brings her other hand to rest on top of their joined ones, and she looks down at her belly. “But things changed. Week twenty-two is very different from week nine. I can feel it inside me now. I can’t even begin to explain how it…” Her lashes flutter in thought. “And then there’s Adrien. I know he’s ecstatic, Gabriel, even though he tries to hide it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says, and he’s surprised at the ferocity of her words. “His joy, even hidden — it’s infectious. He made me start to believe that everything could be alright. And now… you.”

“Me?”

Her eyes search his face, and her hands grip his a little tighter. “From the beginning, I was terrified of what this would mean for us. I thought it would break our friendship apart.” Her eyes grow wet. “I thought you would hate me for making you the father.”

“Never,” Gabriel insists, squeezing back. “Never.”

She laughs tearfully. “I didn’t know that. Especially since when we got back here, everything fell apart so quickly. How could we possibly parent a child? But now… It’s  _ not  _ perfect, but at least there’s hope. At least I can try, and I know you’ll try, too.”

“Of course. I meant what I said, Nathalie, and I still do. I want to be a part of this.” He gives her a smile before rolling onto his back. His hand slides off her belly, but one of hers comes along with his, the two still clasped together.

She’s right; it’s not perfect, but from his point of view, it’s close. Laying next to her like this fills him with more happiness than he’s felt in months, even if they’re not together in the way he’d like them to be. Warm and joyful, he closes his eyes, inviting sleep in. After a few minutes, a thought pops into his mind, uninhibited in his drowsy state. “Nathalie?”

“Mmm?”

He shifts a bit closer. “I’m glad it’s you.”

After a moment, he feels her head fall against his shoulder. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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Things are looking up. But who will take the first step and finally confess their love for the other?
> 
> P.S. If you didn't read my first author's note at the top of the page, please do. It has some important info about TUTB in the coming weeks.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel and Nathalie are back on good terms, but they discover just how much they haven't discussed in regards to their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. If you're here reading this chapter, I want to say thank you for sticking with me through hiatus! I'm not ready to start doing weekly updates again yet, as I'm still catching up from writing my Mini Bang stories, but I figured it's been long enough and we could all use a new chapter. Enjoy!

🦋

As Gabriel comes into consciousness, he feels far more peaceful than he has in a long time. He is well-rested, content, and warm. He breathes in deep, burying his face further against the woman next to him.

He stops, attempting to compute that information. Last time he checked, there was no woman.

He opens his eyes, and instantly realizes he’s not in his own bed. He turns his head, catching sight of dark hair, and he suddenly remembers.

The gorgeous creature he’s entangled with is Nathalie.

She’s lying on her back, and he is on his stomach, pressed tight against her side. His face is pressed into the crook of her neck, and his arm is draped across her, holding her gently. One of his legs splays out, trapped between the two of hers.

His heart jumps. He instantly feels like he should pull away, recognizing that this is far too intimate for the new boundaries that they’ve just set. But for all his reasoning, he can’t bring himself to separate himself from her. This is everything he has dreamed of for the longest time. It takes all the restraint in the world to not press his lips into the temping rise of her collarbone.

Instead, he whispers, “I love you,” the words completely unrecognizable as they’re spoken into the pillow under her head.

Nathalie breathes in deep and lets out a sleepy groan. “What?” she mumbles, turning her face towards him with a smile. Her eyes blink open. “Oh,” she whispers, eyes quickly going wide in surprise. Her chest rises and falls under his arm. “Hello.”

Gabriel flushes. “Hello.” Before she can chastitize him, he begins to pull away.

She shifts ever so slightly, bringing more weight onto his leg and trapping his arm with her own. Well, he realizes, there is no way to escape with his dignity now. He stays put, captivated by her eyes, which bore into his.

But then she blinks gently at him, and he relaxes slightly. There’s something inviting in her look, far different from the coldness they had exchanged in recent weeks. “Good morning,” she sighs, closing her eyes again.

Joy blooms in his chest. “Good morning,” he repeats back to her, still disbelieving that she continues to allow him to hold her so close.

He is wide awake himself at this point, but he is more than happy to stay where he is, observing her face in the high detail that their close proximity allows. He is filled with adoration. If his actions were free from consequence, he’d kiss her on the mouth, morning breath be damned, before peppering kisses up her cheek and across her eyelids.

After some time has passed, and the sun has shifted to peek through the gap of the curtains, the front door opens and closes downstairs. Nathalie stirs, waking for a second time.

“Adrien is home,” Gabriel warns, and she releases her hold, allowing him to move. He sits up, staying close, but in a less compromising position.

Adrien’s face appears in the doorway, flushed and nervous. “Nathalie!” He rushes in and wraps his arms around her, only sparing Gabriel the quickest of questioning glances.

“Hello, Adrien,” she says. “How was your sleepover?”

He gapes at her as he draws back. “It — I mean, it was  _ fine  _ before I got the text. After that, I couldn’t enjoy it, not knowing what happened.”

Nathalie frowns. “I told you everything was okay.”

“I know,” Adrien says. “But I was still worried! I had to see you.”

“Well, you’ve seen me. Are you feeling better now?”

Adrien’s brow creases. “No,” he spills. “No, I’m still really worried. Are you  _ sure  _ you’re okay? And is the baby okay? It sounded like you were in really bad shape!”

“It was scary,” she admits. “But I promise everything is fine. The Guardian paid a visit and redid his spell.”

“Okay,” Adrien says. The line on his brow only grows deeper. “Are you  _ sure?” _

_ “Yes,  _ Adrien,” she assures him. Her expression shifts, eyebrows raised, and she stares far off. “Oh. I think…” She looks down. “Yes.” She reaches for Adrien’s hand. “Adrien, quick, it’s kicking.”

“It is?” he exclaims. Gabriel is slightly jealous as Adrien brings his hand to her belly to feel. “It is!”

“Do you believe me now?” she asks, an amused tone creeping in.

“Dad, you have to feel!” Adrien says.

Gabriel glances to Nathalie in a request for permission, and she nods back to him. He reaches out and waits to feel the flutter underneath. But once again, all he feels is stillness.

Adrien frowns. “I don’t feel it anymore.”

“No,” Nathalie agrees. “It stopped.” She looks apologetically to Gabriel. “Next time, then.”

“Of course,” he says as good-naturedly as he can muster up. He feels bitter at the fact that he’s now missed it twice.

“So…” Adrien says, approaching whatever he’s going to stay cautiously, “We’re all on the same page now, then?” Gabriel’s heart jumps. “About —”

“About Victoire,” Gabriel cuts in, fearful that Adrien will spill his last remaining secret. “For the most part, yes, though we’ve yet to discuss it in depth.”

“We should come up with a plan,” Adrien says. “A new and better plan that Nathalie is in on.” His face drops. “I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you, Nathalie. None of this would have happened if we’d been upfront with you.” His glare is definitely directed at Gabriel.

“What’s done is done,” Nathalie says. “We can only move forward.”

“Let’s get ready for today and we’ll chat,” Gabriel suggests. “Adrien, have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Adrien says. “I left pretty much as soon as Nino woke up.”

“In that case, we all need a shower and some breakfast. We’ll meet back here to discuss.”

“Alright,” Adrien says. “See you soon!”

Gabriel turns to Nathalie. “Do you need any help? I’m not sure you should be left alone after last night.”

Curiously, Nathalie’s cheeks turn pink. “I can manage it.”

“Are you sure?”

“What is it with the two of you?” she needles.  _ “Yes,  _ I’m sure I can handle a shower, Gabriel. For God’s sake, it has a built-in bench.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” he says, raising his hands in defense. “I’m glad you’re up to it.” He gives her arm an affectionate squeeze before rising to attend to his own business. She shoos him out of the room with a little laugh.

In about a half hour, after everyone has showered and gotten ready for the day, Gabriel and Adrien carry several breakfast trays up to Nathalie’s room. She is waiting for them in bed with slightly damp hair, wearing a flowy light blue dress that glides gracefully over her bump.

“Here you are, dear,” Gabriel says, handing off one of the trays to her. Gabriel and Adrien each claim their own spot and settle in to eat.

At this point, much of the day has already gotten away from them, leaving them quite famished. For several minutes, they dig into their breakfasts in silence, though it’s a bit late to be considered “breakfast,” and they have more briochettes on their plates than strictly appropriate. Plagg sits on Adrien’s tray, scarfing down several wheels of camembert.

With their hunger beginning to be satiated, they look at one another, unsure of how to proceed. Just the experience of all sitting together seems surreal; it’s been forever since they’ve all been amicable like this.

“So Aunt Victoire obviously hasn’t given up,” Adrien says, breaking the silence. “What exactly did she say to you? Can I see?”

Nathalie reaches for her phone on the bedside table. “I’ve got it,” Gabriel says, grabbing it with ease and handing it to her. She unlocks it and gives it to Adrien to read.

His face goes white as he scrolls through Victoire’s abusive texts. “This is awful,” he exclaims.

Plagg hovers around his shoulder, reading alongside him. “Wow, what a witch!” the kwami exclaims.

“‘A burden?” Adrien quotes incredulously.’ “You know you’re not a burden, right Nathalie?”

“I know, Adrien,” she assures him. “Her words themselves didn’t get to me very much; I know she’s full of hot air to a certain degree. I was more bothered by the implication that your father had asked this of her.”

Adrien looks sharply at Gabriel. “I knew the dates were a bad idea. Look at how she used them against Nathalie!”

Gabriel droops, acknowledging that his plan had been used to hurt Nathalie, the very thing he had hoped to avoid, but she reaches out to him with a gentle touch to his arm. “All things considered, it wasn’t a terrible idea. You thought you were drawing her attention away from me; you couldn’t have known it would turn out like this.” She gives both of them a small smile. “It’s in the past. Let’s just focus on how we deal with her moving forwards.”

“I’ll confront her,” Gabriel decides. “I’ll let her know that she’s been meddling in my life for far too long, and I won’t tolerate it anymore.”

Nathalie smiles ruefully. “While I’m flattered that you want to defend me against her, it may not be the best move to attack her head-on. That’s a guaranteed way to get her here.”

“She’ll come here at one point or another,” Gabriel points out. “Won’t it be best if we face her on our terms rather than letting her take us by surprise?” Nathalie gives him a deer-in-the-headlights look, and he quickly takes her hand. “I’m sorry, I know it’s awful for you. But the reality is at some point, she will come here, and when she does, it’s likely that she’ll find out you’re pregnant. We can’t hide forever.”

Nathalie buries her head in her hands. “What a mess.” She rubs her temples. “This is all my fault, I’m so sorry.”

Gabriel and Adrien exchange alarmed looks. “Nathalie, no,” Adrien says. “Why would you think that?”

“Please stop blaming yourself,” Gabriel says, rubbing a soothing hand down her back. “None of this is your fault, least of all, Victoire.”

She sits up, wiping her face as she goes. Her brow creases, and she looks out the window in thought. “Gabriel…”

“Yes?”

She brings her eyes back to him. “What if we continued with your plan?” She straightens up further as the thought formulates. “You’re right; we can’t hide the pregnancy from her, or from the world in general. But if you continue to go out and socialize, we can quell the rumors of our involvement. If she doesn’t think we’re together, she’ll leave us alone. Especially if you don’t acknowledge her texts to me.”

Her words sting. He goes quiet and looks down at his hands, realizing that Nathalie’s primary concern is not to hide her pregnancy, but to hide the baby’s parentage.

“Gabriel?” She nudges him. “What is it?”

“It was one thing to dispel rumors for a short period of time,” he says. “But if we continue with this charade, eventually we’ll be at the point of no return. The world will assume that I’m not the father.”

“Yes, exactly,” she says. “That’s what we want, isn’t it?” She meets his gaze, and her eyes widen as she takes in his stricken expression. “Gabriel…”

“ _ Is _ that what we want?” he asks.

Her breath catches and his heart rate quickens in response. “I just assumed it was what you wanted,” she quickly says. “I wasn’t trying to make a unilateral decision on this. It’s not even really what  _ I— _ ” She stops and hesitates. “We haven’t really discussed what we want our arrangement to be.”

“You haven't?” Adrien chimes in. “Like, at  _ all?” _

“Hardly,” Gabriel admits. “We haven’t been on the best of terms lately.”

“You guys!” Adrien exclaims. “This is really important. How have you not even decided if Dad is going to publicly acknowledge this or not?” He shakes his head. “I’ve always hated anything to do with PR, but even I know that this will have a huge affect on all of us personally, and on the company, no matter  _ what  _ you choose. At the very least, you need to decide on the big stuff, even if you can’t agree on the small stuff.”

“We can,” Gabriel insists. “We’ll figure it out — big stuff and small stuff alike.”

“Well…” Nathalie says, “maybe since we’re not at each other’s throats any longer, we should talk through it now, Gabriel. After all, Victoire isn’t backing off, the public is getting suspicious, and I’m certainly not getting any less pregnant,” she teases, touching her belly.

“You should definitely do that,” Adrien says, rising. He picks up the empty trays. “I don’t think we can really come up with a plan if you two aren’t on the same page about this.”

Nathalie looks up at Gabriel. “Gabriel? What do you think?”

He takes her hand, trying not to note how easily and naturally it slips into his own. “If you’re ready to discuss it, then I am as well.” His nerves are fluttering all over the place, but he recognizes that there is no better time for them to figure it all out.

“Perfect,” Adrien says. “I’ll leave you alone to do that. You don’t have to figure it all out today, but at least start the conversation, okay?”

“Okay,” they both agree. Adrien walks out and shuts the door behind him and Plagg.

Gabriel and Nathalie look at one another, alone once more.

“Well, then,” Gabriel says. He repositions himself on the bed to face her better. He takes a deep breath in, but it does little to slow his racing heart as he asks, “Where do we even begin?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> Feedback
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What do you think? Can they both get on the same page about their plans for the baby?


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie and Gabriel realize there's a lot to think about when it comes to their child's future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm not missing any other published art, as I've been fairly inactive on Tumblr lately, but here are a few beautiful pieces by Hope Elias: https://thehopeelias.tumblr.com/post/616244104695775232/one-base-ive-drawn-3-versions-1-swallowtail?is_related_post=1#notes and https://thehopeelias.tumblr.com/post/614768472128438272/the-colored-versions-are-done-mymayura-i-love
> 
> If I've forgotten to share anyone's art, please just give me a gentle reminder either here or on Discord. I adore all of the amazing fanart that you guys have contributed.

_Now I'm counting all the letters, do you love me, do you not?_

🦋

Nathalie stares off into space as she thinks, deciding what they should even begin with as they come up with a plan for their baby’s future. “I suppose the first question would be what your role will be at home,” she muses softly. “I know you want to be involved, Gabriel, but to what degree? Do you want our child to know you as their father, or will you be in the role of a family friend?”

“The father,” Gabriel quickly tells her. “Please,” he adds. “If you’re comfortable with it, I want to take on that responsibility fully. I don’t want to lie to our child.”

“Lying might be necessary,” she points out. “There are some things that people can never know. For instance, the circumstances of this pregnancy. If anyone found out, they could easily trace us back to Papillon and Mayura.”

“Do you think our child should never know the truth?” Gabriel asks.

“Do you think they should?” she counters.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “It’s a terrible secret to bear. But all the same, with all that has transpired, I can’t imagine Adrien not knowing. I don’t want the baby to be the only one out of the loop when they’ve grown.”

She nods, running a hand over her belly. “I can see both sides of it. It’ll be a difficult decision.” She sighs. “But thankfully, it’s not one we have to make right now. If you want to raise the baby as its father, then you’ll do just that. We have at least a few years to figure out how much we want them to know about our past.”

He swallows. “Are you sure you’re okay with me taking on that role?”

She smiles. “It’s yours to take, Gabriel.” She looks down shyly. “To be completely honest, I’m relieved. I didn’t want to do this alone.”

His heart beats harder, warmed that she wants him in this capacity. He’d been so nervous at any suggestion of him not being involved. “Will you live here?” he blurts out. “I think it’s best if you do.”

She takes a sharp breath in, and for a moment, he’s afraid she’ll say no. “That would probably make the most sense, wouldn’t it?” she asks. “I only hesitate because it’ll be a big adjustment for all of us. But there’s not adequate space for a baby in my apartment, especially once they’re out of a crib.” She fixes her glasses nervously. “I don’t want to impose, though.”

“We have more room than we could ever possibly need,” Gabriel dismisses. “It would be no imposition.”

“Well… I’m not just referring to taking up a room or two. What I’m referring to is the extent that our lives will be intertwined.” She stops, a dark look forming on her face. “I know this is a sensitive topic, Gabriel, but what if, at some point, you do develop a relationship with another woman? I can’t imagine that would be a comfortable arrangement.”

“That won’t happen,” he snaps defensively. “I can promise you, it will not.”

Her head drops. “Of course,” she murmurs. He immediately feels bad, not wanting to place blame on her for not loving him in return.

“I could ask you the same, however,” he suggests, even though his heart is screaming for him not to. “Especially since you’re still young, never married… As much as I want you here, will you be happy?”

“I’m not thinking about dating right now,” she laughs bitterly. “And I don’t think I will for quite some time.” She clasps her hands over her stomach. Guilt bubbles up in Gabriel, and suddenly, he feels as if he’s robbed Nathalie of the opportunity for a normal marriage and life. “It’s not a concern of mine, Gabriel,” she says, rubbing circles on her rounded belly, her face revealing newfound tiredness. “Really.”

He nods, wishing for his guilt to subside. He bites the inside of his cheek, realizing that they still haven’t discussed possibly the most important topic: how they present this to the world. It’s a difficult topic to approach, especially since he senses that there is still a sense of shame in Nathalie regarding the whole situation.

“About what you said earlier…” he begins, shifting gears, “do you not want the public to know that the baby is mine?”

“It’s not that,” she assures him. “It was a poor assumption on my part. I thought you’d want to keep it private.”

“I don’t,” he says. “I feel that the least we have to hide, the better,” he admits. “I’m tired of all the secrecy.”

Thankfully, he sees sympathy reflected back at him. “I am, too, Gabriel. But you do realize this is going to create a media circus, right? It’ll be just as exhausting to deal with that than if we pretended the father was someone else, maybe more. Just think of what they’ll say: ‘Gabriel Agreste Fathers Illegitimate Child with Secretary After One Night Stand,’” she announces, painting an invisible headline in the air with her hands.

Gabriel winces. “First of all, don’t say ‘secretary.’ You’re my executive assistant. We both know you practically run the company. I’ve hired dozens of temps to cover just your job alone for the time being. They were nowhere near prepared for the workload.”

“The media doesn’t care about my workload, or accomplishments, or my official title. As long as I answer phones, they will consider me a secretary,” she points out. “It’s a juicier story if they twist the truth.”

“Regardless,” he says, not liking this scenario at all, “we don’t have to frame it in that way. They don’t have to think of it as a mistake. You know they will be brutal towards you if we say it was. They’ll paint you as the seductress.”

“What is the alternative?” she asks, crossing her arms. “We can’t tell them that I impregnated myself, even if it’s true.”

“We don’t have to say it was a one night stand. It doesn’t have to be casual sex.”

Her mouth drops open. “What?”

He clenches his fists and curls his toes to keep himself from shaking as he continues. “It doesn’t have to be an accident from a drunken night or a moment of passion. Why should we give the press that kind of ammunition?” he asks casually, knowing very well that what he is suggesting is far from casual. “We could say that we’ve been in a stable relationship for quite some time and we were avoiding coming out to the public for the sake of our privacy.”

She shakes her head disbelievingly. “An affair. A  _ hidden  _ affair. That’s even more scandalous.”

“Hardly,” he argues. “Not if we play the cards right, and not if we stay ‘together.’ A relationship, not an affair.”

“This is a boneheaded move, even for you,” she fumes at him. He is taken aback by her anger at the proposal. “We’ll both be crucified for this. What about Emilie?”

“She’s been legally dead for months,” he points out. Nathalie goes pale. “You were quite thorough with our cover, Nathalie,” he reassures her. “There's an official record of it now that she was in hospice for years and then taken off life support. There’s nothing scandalous there, unless you count a grieving widower finally being willing to let go.”

She cups her hands over her face. “Gabriel,” she groans. “There’s more issue with it than just that.”

“Like what?” he asks enthusiastically. “Nathalie,” he says, taking her hands. Her eyes point skyward, refusing to look at him. “We can pull this off.”

“No, we can’t!” she snaps, pulling her hands out of his. His stomach lurches as he notices that once again, he’s brought tears to her eyes. “I don’t want to do this.”

He suddenly realizes just how much of a burden his idea would put on her. He feels like an utter fool for not being aware of just how much his proposition could retraumatize her. “Nathalie…”

“Don’t.” She wipes her tears angrily. “I’m sorry, Gabriel; you’re asking too much.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he says. “We’ve just made up, and I’m already hurting you again.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, but her continually flowing tears say otherwise. “It’s a good idea, but I — I can’t. It’s a painful reminder.”

“It  _ is  _ my fault.” He tentatively moves towards her and puts his hand on her back. “I wasn’t thinking. With the baby being the twist to your wish—”

She pushes his hand away, suddenly looking distressed, and he stumbles back from the bed to give her adequate space she can’t take for herself. “The baby isn’t the twist, Gabriel.”

He freezes, shocked. “What?”

“The baby  _ was  _ the wish. A stupid, faraway dream I had for someday a long time from now. The  _ circumstances _ were the twist,” she says.

“How—?”

“You can’t think that any of the factors involved are good to have a baby in,” she cries.

“No, but—”

“But what?” she exclaims. “Can you think of a single part of this scenario that is ideal?” She takes her glasses off, which are entirely fogged up by her tears at this point. “You’ve seen my fear, you’ve seen my anger, but you haven’t seen my heartbreak over this. I want this baby, Gabriel, but not right as we’re only just now putting the ugliest chapter of our lives behind us. Not when I’m so sick that I don’t even know if I’ll live to see our child when it’s born. Not when—”

“You will live,” he insists. He’s determined to make sure of it. “The Guardian is getting closer to a solution. He’ll be able to heal you soon.”

“We don’t  _ know  _ that,” she cries. “And even if we did, this still isn’t how I wanted to have a child. It doesn’t change the fact that the baby’s father is a man who could never love me, no matter how hard he tries!” She stops, breathing heavily. They look at each other with wide eyes, and Gabriel feels frozen in place.

Shock hits him in waves, coming in quick succession. For a second, he can’t even breathe, taken down by the unrelenting current of his own disbelief, and his brain is unwilling to cooperate in forming words. Finally, he manages to take in just enough air to speak.

“You think I don’t love you?”

The words are barely audible, but they hang heavy between them. Nathalie closes her eyes with a sob. “You know what I mean, Gabriel. I know you love me, but not in the way that I’m talking about.”

As foolish as it is, he can only let out a disbelieving laugh. He’d never even thought there was a possibility that Nathalie could be so unaware of his affections. He doesn’t quite understand why this saddens her, but her tears are enough to make him push his apprehensions aside and lay all his cards on the table. “You think I’m not madly  _ in  _ love with you?”

She lets out an audible gasp, eyes popping open. For a second, her sadness melts away, and she looks at him with pure wonder, nothing else. But then, she sighs, expression drooping even further than before. “Oh God. Oh, no. This isn’t real.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, remorseful for unloading onto her the one thing that should have stayed hidden, which is now causing her additional distress. “I can’t help it.”

She looks at him in horror, tears dripping down from her lids. “No, I mean — You don’t actually feel this way. This is my fault!” She wrings her hands with anguish. “I don’t know how, but the wish—”

“The wish had nothing to do with it,” he insists. “My feelings for you began far before then.”

She shakes her head sadly. “You only think that because you want to believe it. I’m sorry, I don’t know how to fix it. But you’re not in love with me, Gabriel. You just think you are.”

“I swear to you, Nathalie, I know for a fact —” He stops, searching for anything he can use to prove to her that she truly, authentically holds his heart. Suddenly, it strikes him. “Dark Cupid.”

“What?” she stammers, thrown by the unexpected shift.

“The second time that we akumatized Dark Cupid. It was before Dejinnerate. You got hit by his powers,” he reminds her. “The effects of that didn’t wear off, Nathalie. I lied to you.”

“Don’t be absurd; of course they did,” she protests. “If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be back to normal now.”

“There’s another way to break Dark Cupid’s spell,” he says. Nathalie’s breath catches, but she doesn’t say anything to him. “I kissed you,” he reveals, “and the curse broke instantly. At the time, I was too afraid to confront what that meant, and I explained it away as lust, an infatuation.” He has the urge to reach out and grab her hand, but he practices restraint. “It’s taken me far too long to realize, but that was never the case. I’m in love with you, and I have been for a very long time. Longer than I’ve even been aware of it, I suspect.”

“It’s just a myth,” she argues weakly.

“Is it?” he challenges. “I thought so too, once, and it was easy to dismiss before I knew who stood behind Ladybug and Chat Noir’s masks. Marinette broke Adrien’s curse by kissing him; do you think they aren’t in love? Do you think they haven’t been this whole time, even if they were unaware of it?” Nathalie is silent. “Even if you want to disregard Dark Cupid, I can tell you that I felt all the effects of love long before your wish was ever made. I was terrified for you every time you risked your life. I wanted to spend every moment of my day with  _ you. You  _ brought me happiness in the bleakest of times, Nathalie,” he says, spilling everything he has. “Even if I was too blind to see it.”

She hiccups, another tear sliding down her cheek.

Gabriel moves forward to wipe it away. “You have every right to reject me, and I promise, I will still be here. But I will not allow you to deny that I love you with all my heart.”

The stillness between them is unearthly, especially as their faces are positioned so closely together. Suddenly, Nathalie breaks the vacuum of the atmosphere with a breathy laugh. “Why on Earth would I reject you?”

Gabriel’s brow furrows. “I imagine if you didn’t feel the same, that would be a more than understandable reason, just to start.”

Quickly, her smile drops. “You can’t be serious.”

His first assumption is that he is somehow in trouble until the full implications sink in. His hopes raise, but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions.

She grabs him by the collar of his shirt, looking at him seriously. “Gabriel, I wished for  _ your  _ baby. What did you think that meant?”

He searches her face for any evidence that she is joking or tricking him, but he comes up empty handed. All he sees in her expression is honesty and earnestness. He feels a familiar sting in his eyes as tears pool up. “Are we—?” He can’t speak again, too shocked and afraid that he might be wrong to get the words out, and met with the additional obstacle of a growing lump in his throat. “Are you in love with me too?”

She begins to sob, but she is smiling, her whole face lit up with happiness. “Yes,” she says emphatically. “For years.” As he looks at her, he feels as if a hundred lightbulbs are switching on inside his body, filling him with a warm glow. Understanding finally seeps in.

He wraps his arms around her, and she reciprocates, filling all the empty crevices in his form like a perfect puzzle piece. Her face nestles into the crook of his neck, dampening it, and he suspects his tears are doing the same to her shoulder as well.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” she murmurs.

“I can’t believe  _ you  _ didn’t know,” he counters, but it is lighthearted. “Adrien said I should tell you, but I was so certain you were already aware. I didn’t want to upset you by pushing it.”

He feels her wet eyelashes beating against his neck. He turns his face and kisses her softly on the head. They are silent for a moment, before Nathalie asks, “How long have we been dancing around each other when we could have just…?” She trails off, the rest of her question implied.

“Far too long,” he says. He strokes her back gently, tracing his finger along her spine. 

“We’re in love,” Nathalie whispers disbelievingly.

“We’re in love,” Gabriel assures her, drawing back so he can actually look at her as he says it. Nathalie is beaming, and he grins back at her. Soon, they are laughing in tandem.

When they finally catch their breath, Nathalie blinks at him slowly, her head cocked slightly to the side, with an expression that he finally recognizes as adoration. There is a pang in his chest as he pieces together the more tragic side of what this all means.

The air he draws in is cold and sharp on his lips. “You risked your life for me. You’re sick like this because of  _ me. _ ”

“Gabriel,” she protests, voice cracking. Her hand flies out to grab him by the arm. “No.  _ Please  _ don’t blame yourself for my choices.” Gabriel’s brow furrows, but Nathalie’s eyes grow sad, and she adds, “I can’t handle that right now.” Gabriel forces his expression back to neutral, not wanting to upset her.

“I won’t make the same mistakes again,” he promises. “Your health is my number one priority, Nathalie. Please,” he insists, taking her hands in his. “Don’t lose faith. I won’t let you die.” He brings his hand tenderly to her cheek. “I couldn’t bear it.”

Her eyes are shining with emotion, but her face is no longer creased with pain and worry. “I want to believe so badly that everything will turn out okay. That we’ll be a happy family and this isn’t just an illusion.”

“Believe it,” he pleads. “We’ve come so far. We’ll make it out of this.” He understands her worries, feeling identical ones swirling inside him, but right now, in this moment, he doesn’t want to dampen their joy. 

She takes a deep breath. “Okay,” she says, as if his request is all she needs to make herself better. “We’ll make it out of this.” She looks down at their joined hands, and a smile spreads across her face once more. “I can’t imagine any of it will be straightforward. How we ended up here was… unconventional, to say the least.”

He looks down. “I understand if this is too much, too fast. I know you were upset with me.”

“I was. I am,” she says. “But I can’t bring myself to care right now.” She tries to look at him sternly, even as a smile peeks through. “My terms still stand. I finally understand why you acted the way you did, but regardless of what your feelings are, I need you to  _ trust  _ me. Trust that I don’t want to hurt myself, that I don’t want to hurt our baby. Trust my actions now, even though I’ve made mistakes. Show me that you see the best in me even though you’ve witnessed my worst.”

“Most certainly,” he promises. “I know I can be overprotective. I’m far from perfect, Nathalie, but I’ll try.”

“There’s one more thing,” she says, her expression shifting drastically.

“Yes?”

“Here we are with a child on the way, and… I haven’t even kissed you,” she says, a steady blush filling her cheeks. Gabriel’s heart jumps. “At least not on an occasion I’ve been fortunate enough to remember.”

“Well.” He pulls himself closer, trying not to look too overly eager like a wide-eyed virgin. “We should fix that.”

Her eye line drops to his mouth, and after a moment, his own eyes are tempted downwards by her soft pink lips. They curl ever so slightly into a smile as he slides a hand around her lower back and another to the spine of her neck. Her hands come up to grab his shoulders as he draws her in.

Plush lips meet against his. His heart beats rapidly in his chest, more excited than it has been in years. Pure happiness radiates through him, pushing him to tangle his hand in Nathalie’s hair and deepen their kiss. The tip of her tongue pokes at the crease of his mouth, and he parts his lips to allow it to slip inside. They take turns exploring each other’s mouths, making soft, contented noises as they finally share in intimacy. Nathalie’s lips are still sweet from the berries she ate not an hour before.

Gabriel tugs her towards him again, and suddenly, he can’t get close enough to her, no matter how he tries. He pushes her gently, guiding her down with care so that she lays back against the pillows. He spreads himself over her, creating the closeness he so craves.

Their kiss is more passionate now, breaking off every now and again so they can pepper each other’s faces, necks, and hands with kisses. Every so often, Gabriel’s stomach bumps up against the curve of Nathalie’s belly, a reminder to be gentle even in the heat of the moment, a difficult calling as Nathalie wraps her leg around his possessively.

She gasps as Gabriel works his way down her neck and sucks at her collarbone. As he parts with a kiss, she reaches for the collar of his shirt and fumbles to undo his buttons. He leans in, every pore of his body wanting her to do it, but his mind pulls him back. “Wait,” he says, stopping her eager hands with his own.

She laughs at him, “It’s a little late for a condom.”

“It’s not that,” he says, and her smile melts away, realizing that he’s being serious. “I think we should slow down.”

She frowns, expression bruised. “Oh. I thought you wanted to—”

“I do,” he assures her. “I do very much,” he says, unable to restrain the yearning growl in his voice. “But you’re still healing,” he reminds her, stroking her hair as he looks down on her lovingly.

She huffs at him, frustration apparent. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

“So have I, my dear.” He leans down and places another soft kiss on her lips, a gesture of reassurance so she understands just how attracted to her he is. He lays himself down at her side. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but we have all the time in the world. Once Fu figures out a cure, everything will be okay.”

She looks down, biting her lip.

“What is it?”

“Will it be okay?” she asks. “Victoire—”

He can’t help but laugh, his bothersome sister being the last worry on his mind. “What does it matter? There’s no need for pretending any longer.” He hesitates. “You do want to be with me, don’t you?”

She sighs, scooting in to tuck her head against his shoulder. “As if you even need to ask, Gabriel. Of course I do.”

“Publicly?”

“ _ Yes.  _ As long as you are sure that the attention won’t be too much. It won’t be sunshine and roses. You know how the press can be vicious.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” he reassures her, wrapping his arms around her. “And neither is Victoire. As long as I have you, I am happy.” His hand settles on her stomach, and he smiles, still disbelieving that everything has turned out so well for them.

There is a brush under his palm.

“Is that—?” He cuts off, heart racing in his chest as he concentrates on the sensations under his hand. There is another nudge under his fingers.

“You feel it?” she exclaims, beaming at him. Her hand presses on top of his, and the baby gives a series of kicks in response.

“Yes,” he whispers, choked up in awe.

“Are you saying hello to your father?” Nathalie asks, gazing down amusedly at her bump.

After a few seconds, the movements settle down, though Gabriel is still left teary-eyed by the display.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Nathalie. “Oh, Gabriel, are you alright?” she asks, wiping under his eyes with a tender thumb.

He grabs her hand. “I am overjoyed,” he weeps into her palm.

She kisses away his tears, unswayed from her task as new ones bloom up in their place. “You are my world,” she whispers. She kisses his lips, slowly and sweetly, before he can move them to respond.

Eventually, he pulls himself away. “I want everyone to know you’re mine,” he declares. “No more hiding. Do you agree?”

After a second of thought, she nods. “And what about Victoire?”

It takes all his effort to not crinkle his nose in disdain. “Let her find out with everyone else. She can’t stop us if we don’t give her the opportunity.” He stands. “I’m going to call Adrien back — let him know what we’re planning.” He stops, smiling. “He’ll be pleased by this development; he was hoping for this.”

She smiles softly in return. “I’m sure he will be. He’s been dropping hints to me as well.”

“Just hints? You got off easy,” he teases. He makes his way back to her one more time, lassoed in by his overwhelming affection. He kisses her.

“I love you,” she murmurs.

“I love you,” he says back. He squeezes her hand. “Are you ready?”

She looks at him with renewed confidence in her eyes. “I am.”

He locks their fingers together, drawing strength. “Then, my dear, I think it’s time I finally stood up to my big sister.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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Who is happy that it finally happened? 😊


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is put in place. The first half of an announcement is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thehopeelias drew a some very sweet fanart of the confession scene last chapter! https://thehopeelias.tumblr.com/post/616854144500875264/mymayura-posted-chapter-25-of-the-fanfic-tutb-the
> 
> dishwater-blondie also did some incredible Victoire art! I am going to save those for Victoire's first appearance for full impact 😉 It won't be too long from now.
> 
> Thank you both for your awesome art! Seeing stuff like this really encourages me to keep going. 💕
> 
> EDIT: Sorry for accidentally copying too much from my doc! Haha, I don't know how the previous chapters snuck in there, but they're gone now.

🦋

Adrien follows Gabriel into Nathalie’s bedroom after Gabriel informs him that they’ve talked things out and reached a decision. Or at least, Gabriel assumes so until he sits next to Nathalie on the bed and realizes Adrien has stopped outside the room.

“It finally happened!” he exclaims, standing shocked in the doorway.

Nathalie and Gabriel glance at each other. “What happened, Adrien?” Nathalie asks calmly.

His jaw drops further. He turns his attention to Gabriel. “You finally told her! I told you so! I told you it would work out and you didn’t believe me!”

Gabriel goes red, sputtering denials until he comes to terms with the fact that everything Adrien has just said is true. He looks down, a small, hummed laugh bubbling up at his own foolishness.

“Yes, Adrien, you were right,” Nathalie takes over for him. “But how on Earth did you know?”

“Are you kidding?” he exclaims, bouncing on his toes with continued excitement. “You both have the gooiest expressions right now. Not to mention Dad sat himself down right next to you without keeping his carefully measured foot of space.”

“I was doing no such thing before,” Gabriel protests.

“Oh, no, your son is right,” Nathalie scolds teasingly. “You were keeping your distance earlier.”

“I was being _ respectful,” _he insists, but it’s all good-natured. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her close, not concerned with preserving personal space any longer.

“Well it seems we don’t have to ask you how you feel about it, Adrien,” Nathalie remarks as Adrien’s sunny smile grows bigger and bigger. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I’m more than happy,” he enthuses. “I’ve been waiting for this forever.” He finally breaks out of the doorway, joining them on the bed. “You’re family to me, Nathalie. This is the best thing that could have ever happened.” He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus. “So what did you decide? You’re not hiding this, are you?”

Gabriel turns to look at Nathalie to triple-check that they are on the same page, and he finds her looking at him just the same. A soft smile crinkles her eyes.

“We’re not hiding it,” Gabriel says, and his words are interrupted by a small “whoop” of celebration from Adrien. “We’re going to make an official announcement revealing our relationship and the baby.”

“Let me help, please,” Adrien begs. “I can’t wait; I have so many ideas.”

Gabriel is sure that Adrien’s ideas are all bigger and more public than he would prefer, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to deprive him of the experience. “Nothing too invasive,” he warns. “I’d rather not be doing interviews on this, and I’m sure Nathalie feels the same.” She nods beside him, but she appears more amused than concerned.

“I know, I know,” Adrien says. “I was thinking a brief statement from each of you—”

“You too, Adrien,” Nathalie cuts in. “If you want to, that is. We’re talking about major changes to your family, after all.”

“I’d love to!” he responds, eyes shining. “And then… well, I was thinking we could do a family picture?”

Gabriel is surprised as Nathalie quickly comments, “I’m not so sure about that.”

He looks at her tenderly, asking, “Are you camera-shy?”

She brushes him off. “No, not at all. It’s just… a big step. You haven’t gotten a new family photo or portrait in years. Are you okay with this, Gabriel?”

“I’m ready,” he reassures her. The thought of anything replacing the empty spaces of shrines to Emilie is daunting, but ultimately, a positive step forward. “The only issue I see with this is that we’ll need a new one in just a few months.”

“Yes!” Adrien jumps back to his feet and begins to pace as he thinks. “It’ll be better if it’s a complete surprise, so we’ll take the picture ourselves. I still have one of Alya’s cameras I borrowed for a class project, so we can use that. We’ll write our statements today and take the pictures and post everything tomorrow! It’s going to be so much fun!” He stops in his tracks, a concerned look crossing his face. “Wait, what about Aunt Victoire?”

“She’ll find out with the rest of the world.” Adrien’s eyes go wide. “I’ve decided I’m done indulging her.”

“Are you sure, Dad?” Adrien frets. “You’ve always told me that it’s best to avoid confrontation. This could make things worse.”

“Perhaps I have been giving you bad advice,” Gabriel admits. “Look at where that approach led us yesterday. My passivity with my sister nearly got Nathalie killed. Sometimes you have to stand up for yourself and those you care about.”

“Oh. _ Merde.” _Adrien scratches his head. “I, uh… may have been taking a bad approach to a situation at school. With Marinette. I never even realized.”

Gabriel catches a concerned glance from Nathalie. 

He leans into her, asking softly, “You’ll be moving into my room, yes?”

Nathalie turns pink, taken by surprise by Gabriel’s question. “Um, yes. _ Yes, _I’d like that, but is this the best time?”

He squeezes her hand conspiratorially and rises to his feet. “Adrien, help me move Nathalie’s things into my room, will you? We’ll discuss your problem.” Nathalie’s eyes soften with approval as she realizes Gabriel’s intentions to have a serious conversation with his son.

They start with her clothes, carrying them by the armful to Gabriel’s room and placing them in free drawers and the empty side of the closet that had once held Emilie’s things. For a moment, Gabriel feels a pang of sadness at what he has lost, but as hangers fill up with maternity clothing, there is a growing feeling of correctness that calms him, reminding him of what he has gained in its place.

Adrien’s worries have the opposite effect, however. Gabriel’s heart sinks as his son details his struggles with Lila Rossi in a long, dreadful story.

There had been hints in the past that Lila had been making his son’s life less than pleasant, but Adrien had never before expressed the full extent of it. Gabriel knew that she was tricky, manipulative, even mean, but he’d never realized quite how selfish she was. He is horrified to find out about her lack of respect for Adrien’s personal space and boundaries.

Another cause for concern is her cruelty towards Marinette. With the young designer being Adrien’s new girlfriend, Gabriel is quite worried to hear that Lila was attempting to get her into trouble and destroy her reputation. Not to mention that personally, he’d become quite fond of the girl who had turned out to be Paris’s hero and his past nemesis. She had given him a second chance when he needed it most, and he now feels a pit of guilt for enabling her bully.

“You are not to indulge Ms. Rossi any further,” Gabriel finally snaps, unable to hear any more. “The way she has targeted Marinette and harassed you is simply unacceptable.” He’s grateful that he’d had the foresight to pull her from Gabriel brand photoshoots months before, as he began to get an inkling that she was more trouble than she was worth.

The guilt still gnaws at him, however. “I have a confession to make,” he sighs. “Ms. Rossi was under my employ, both as Gabriel and as Papillon. I had no idea, however, that it was this bad.”

“She doesn’t know your identity, does she?” Adrien worries.

“No, not to my knowledge,” Gabriel assures him. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I’m sure this is a shock to you. In truth, I haven’t spared her a thought in quite some time, but you should know that I was using her to make your life quite difficult before.”

Adrien makes a face of discomfort. “I know. It wasn’t that hard to figure it out. She was involved in my personal life far too much for you not to have allowed it. And she did get akumatized a suspicious amount.”

“Regardless, it was foolish and selfish, and I should add it to my long list of apologies that I owe you.”

“It’s okay, Dad, really,” Adrien says. “I owe some apologies of my own to Marinette. Not everything that Lila does has anything to do with you. She’s been awful to Marinette of her own volition, and I’ve been letting it happen. I didn’t even realize how wrong I was.”

“I’ll call the school,” Gabriel decides. “Not that I wish to follow in André Bourgeios’s footsteps, but it’s severe enough of a situation that some intervention is called for.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Gabriel insists. “It is long overdue, and I’m sure it would make your school life easier.”

“It would. Just don’t go overboard, okay? I don’t want to be like Chloe,” he sighs. “Wow, I’ve been an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Gabriel protests sharply. “You’re a very smart, insightful young man, Adrien. This is an area where I have failed you, and I suspect it comes back to my own spinelessness regarding my sister.” He straightens himself up. “It’s time to break the cycle. I encourage you to stand up for yourself and your friends, and I’ll do the same.”

Adrien takes on a determined expression. “Okay. Let’s do it. We’ll both change together.”

Gabriel puts his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “You are brighter than you give yourself credit for. You were right about Nathalie, for instance. If I had simply told her how I felt sooner, we could have avoided a lot of trouble.”

“You could have,” Adrien agrees, “but does it really matter now? You figured it out and now…” he sighs, smiling. “Everything is going to be okay. I really feel for the first time that it’s all going to work out.”

They finish arranging Nathalie’s things, and with their conversation reaching its natural end, they go back to her old room to help her to the one she’ll now be sharing with Gabriel.

Gabriel tries to lift her out of bed, but she swats him away. “Let me walk,” she insists.

“After last night? No,” Gabriel says.

“Last night I was standing for hours packing a suitcase and agonizing over my choice. I’m allowed _ short _walks,” she insists. “I don’t want to rot away in bed.”

“Please, let me take care of you.”

“Please, _ trust me,” _she says back. She is kind, but firm in her words, a reminder to Gabriel that he needs to relinquish some control, even if his fear and worry fights against him.

He caves in, helping her out of bed and guiding her down the hall with a gentle hand on her back, should she lose her balance. The Guardian’s spell seems to be doing its job, however. She makes her way into Gabriel’s bed without any incident.

It’s odd, but nice, to have her there. His bed has been empty for so long, and he finally has someone to share it with again.

They spend the next part of the day penning the statements that they will surely have to give to the press when the news goes out. Gabriel struggles with his. Although he is more than sure of his love for Nathalie, he has always been a private person in spite of his celebrity status. It feels odd to voice his never ending love to the world, and he’s afraid that his statement is coming across as stilted and fake.

Nathalie, on the other hand, has always been gifted with words. Gabriel is impressed to read her statement, finding it short and concise, with plenty of positive spin to help take some of the heat off of them. Adrien’s is very much the opposite, not carefully written at all, but gushing with love and affection and excitement. It’s perfect for him, but the same tactics won’t work for Gabriel.

In the end, he asks Nathalie to help him. His face is warm as he shows her the messy paragraph he’s written, expressing his long-time admiration of her, and is surprised to see her go a bit teary-eyed.

“It’s much better than you think, Gabriel,” she says, wiping her cheek. “It’s heartfelt and quite touching. If anything, I think we should tone it down slightly. We don’t want anyone to think you’re being heavy handed.”

She helps him make changes to edge his statement closer towards professionality. Once the statement is completed, Gabriel rises from the bed, kissing the top of Nathalie’s head as he goes. “I’ve saved the least pleasant task for last,” he tells her.

“What’s that?”

“Making a call to HR,” he says, holding up his phone.

Nathalie grimaces. “How are you even going to begin?”

“I’ll start by letting them know about Emilie and sending all related legal documents, to start,” he says. “After that, I’ll inform them that we’ve grown closer and are now in a relationship.”

“And the baby?”

He shakes his head. “They’ll already be after my head for dating you. I’ll warn them that there’s a bigger announcement coming and give them the day to cool down before we let Adrien make that post.”

Nathalie runs worried hands through her hair. “They’re going to be so unhappy with us.”

“Let them be,” he says, swooping in to kiss her. “What are they going to do, fire me?”

She snorts at him. “No, but they might fire _ me.” _

“They can try,” he says with a smirk. “I’d simply rehire you again.”

She shakes her head fondly. “Go make your call,” she says, pushing him away. “I should make one of my own.”

His curiosity is piqued. “To whom?”

“To my friend Raimunde,” she responds, opening up her phone. “She’s an OB/GYN, the only one aside from us who knows. She tried to help me when…” She trails off, looking up at Gabriel with pained eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“No,” he disagrees, rushing to reassure her. “I’m glad you had someone there to support you,” he says, fully meaning it, “even if I’m also glad that things worked out the way they did.”

“Me, as well.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry, my dear, I never even thought to ask if there was a prefered doctor you would’ve liked to see.”

“Don’t worry about that, Gabriel,” she says. “I wasn’t ready to face her yet after everything that happened. But now that the situation is a little more stable, it might be nice to have her near.” She blinks, surprising herself with a thought. “We’ll have to come up with a birth plan soon. Oh, God.”

He lays a hand on her arm before she can get too ahead of herself. “Let’s not worry about that yet,” he says. “One step at a time.” He picks up her phone from where she’s dropped it onto the blankets and places it back into her hand. “Call your friend. I’ll call HR.” He kisses her on the head. “I’ll be back soon.”

The call with HR takes over an hour, and it certainly leaves Gabriel with a headache, but all-in-all, it doesn’t go as badly as he’d feared. He’s endlessly thankful that Nathalie has been the epitome of professionalism in all the years she’s worked for him, as it makes HR much more forgiving for their transgressions. It isn’t until late in the afternoon that everything is settled, but once it is, Gabriel finally feels a sense of calm sink in.

The perfection of the evening is almost surreal. For the first time in how long he can recall, he, Nathalie, and Adrien eat dinner together as a family. The atmosphere is warm and happy. He can’t say that they are entirely carefree, as there are some excited jitters, but they stem from a place of anticipation rather than worry.

In spite of the adrenaline, he sleeps better than ever with Nathalie curled in his arms where she belongs, for good.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
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Everything is happy and peaceful. 😊  
How long do you think that will last? 😅


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world finds out, including Victoire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dishwater-blondie did some awesome art! I recommend saving the Victoire ones for after you read the chapter, for full impact.
> 
> Scene from Chapter 25: https://dishwater-blondie.tumblr.com/post/616659138504802304/are-we-he-cant-speak-again-too-shocked-and
> 
> Victoire: https://dishwater-blondie.tumblr.com/post/616658549412708352/if-yall-have-been-reading-throwing-up-these?is_related_post=1

🦋

Morning comes, and the Agreste home is buzzing with excitement and nerves. Adrien is stern and serious, micromanaging the preparations, much to Gabriel and Nathalie’s amusement. First thing in the morning after breakfast, he carefully selects their outfits for them, and Nathalie has to nudge Gabriel in the side to remind him to ease up and let Adrien have his fun.

It is a difficult task to be a fashion designer and have his clothing selected by his teenage son without complaint.

At the very least, Adrien has been raised with a comprehensive understanding of the industry, and the clothing he selects meets Gabriel’s approval. They are all wearing various shades of blue, Gabriel notes — a color that is known to have a psychological effect of trust and honesty. 

For Gabriel, Adrien has selected a simple navy suit with a white dress shirt. It is a polished, but hip look from his current collection with clean lines and careful craftsmanship. Adrien insists on there being no tie, but he does provide Gabriel with a pocket square to dress up the look further.

Adrien’s own look is a bit casual for Gabriel’s tastes, but he supposes it is appropriate for a teenage boy. He wears a plain blue button up shirt under a slightly darker jacket, paired with jeans. At the very least, he looks well put together and unsloppy.

Gabriel is more than approving of the look he has chosen for Nathalie, however. She looks absolutely angelic in a long dress that fades up from royal blue at her feet to a pale sky blue at her collar. The fabric drapes gently around her with layers of silk gauze clinging in a way that shows off her growing bump.

“Oh, wow,” she gasps as she looks in the mirror.

“Stunning, I know,” Gabriel tells her, coming up behind to kiss her neck.

“No,” she says, and she bats him away with a wry smile. She turns her attention back to her reflection. “I look very pregnant,” she remarks, running a hand down her belly.

“Well, it is a pregnancy announcement,” he reminds her. “And you _ are _very pregnant, dear.”

She laughs. “I suppose I just haven’t looked in a while.” She admires herself a bit, cheeks turning pink. “I haven’t had any reason to dress up in so long.”

“You look lovely in anything, but this certainly suits you especially well.” He strokes the back of her neck soothingly. “You worry too much, my dear Nathalie. The last thing you need to be concerned about is your appearance. You’re breathtaking.”

Nathalie turns away from the mirror, blushing, and Gabriel ushers her back to the bed so she can sit as he does her makeup, under Adrien’s strict instructions for which products to use. Adrien has ordered Gabriel to create a natural look, using light eyeshadow and a soft pink blush and lipstick. He styles her hair down, allowing it to fall in gentle waves on her shoulders.

Adrien has set up the camera in the foyer, and Gabriel insists on carrying Nathalie down the stairs. As usual, she protests, but this time he stands firm, deciding that the staircase and her long dress together make up a concerning trip hazard. Nathalie relents, allowing him to scoop her up and carry her to the lower floor.

Gabriel seats her in a chair as they finish setting up, wanting to keep her off of her feet for as long as possible. He helps Adrien adjust the tripod and figure out the self-timer settings on the camera over the next few minutes, and they finally arrange themselves to take pictures.

They take a few pictures all standing together, but Gabriel insists on keeping the timing of it short. The last thing he wants is to put strain on Nathalie only days after her scare, and although standing for a brief amount of time is not a terrible concern, he’d rather play it safe than make a deadly mistake. After a few standing photos, they arrange themselves to sit on the stairs. Nathalie leans back against Gabriel, allowing her to be slightly reclined as they finish up the photos.

They are unlike any pictures that Gabriel has ever had taken before. The various shots are soft and casual — very obviously not professionally done, but charming in their own right. In spite of their roughness, they spark warmth and tenderness in Gabriel, holding a quality of honesty that many professional photos don’t have.

They relocate to the atelier as Adrien transfers the photos to his computer and chooses the best ones to edit. Nathalie lays out on the couch, her head resting in Gabriel’s lap as he runs his fingers through her hair. Adrien has trouble narrowing the choices down, so Gabriel and Nathalie assist him in his selections.

Finally, Adrien decides on four photos for the set, and he finishes editing them to his liking. He moves them to his phone, opens up Instagram, puts them all in, and writes a caption: “I’ve been sitting on this secret for so long, and I finally get to share! Guess what, everyone? I’m going to be a big brother! I don’t know how I got so lucky. We’re all so happy about this new addition to our family.”

He looks to Gabriel and Nathalie for approval, but they are already both smiling fondly at him, touched by his sweet, optimistic words. “Go ahead, Adrien,” Nathalie encourages.

Adrien takes a deep breath, finger hovering over the screen, and if Gabriel is being completely honest, his heart rate has picked up slightly in anticipation.

“Okay,” Adrien says. “Three… two… one!” He sends the post out onto the web.

As tempting as it is to sit huddled around Adrien’s phone, waiting for the world’s reaction to their announcement, the hour for lunch has long passed, and Gabriel’s stomach is rumbling. “I’m going to make us some lunch. You especially need to eat, dear,” he tells Nathalie, patting her cheek fondly. “Do you want to sit with me in the kitchen for a while? I can bring in a more comfortable chair.”

“Alright,” she says, sparing a small glance back to Adrien’s phone. “No point in wringing our hands over it.”

“Adrien?”

“Sure,” he says, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Hey, it hasn’t even been half a minute yet, and there are already five hundred likes!”

By all counts, that is a good thing, but Gabriel feels a tug of nerves. Brushing it off, he helps Nathalie to her feet, and they walk together to the kitchen.

Adrien gives a live play-by-play as Gabriel quickly assembles some sandwiches, passing the first to Nathalie and watching out of the corner of his eye to make sure she eats well. “A thousand likes,” Adrien says. “Two thousand!”

“What about the comments, Adrien?” Nathalie asks, a small crease of worry materializing on her forehead. “Anything yet?”

“Oh yeah, tons,” he says. “All good so far, from what I see. ‘Congrats, Adrien! Your sibling is lucky to have you.’ Aww,” he comments, grinning. “That’s sweet. Here’s another: ‘Wow, dude, that’s awesome! Didn’t know your dad and Nathalie were a thing.’ That’s from Nino,” he says sheepishly. He scrolls down, skimming them as he goes. “A lot of my friends have commented, but a bunch of fans have too.”

Nathalie bites her lip, looking a bit more hopeful, but still anxious. “And… any negative yet?” Gabriel’s heart sinks, knowing that if there are any rude comments, they’ll mostly be directed at her.

“Not really,” Adrien says, and they both breathe a sigh of relief. “The worst of them are neutral or, well, just a little confused. Like this guy asks, ‘Who is that lady? I don’t know her.’ And then there are like fifteen comments below him explaining who you are,” he continues, explaining to Nathalie. He laughs, “Nathalie, you already have fans!”

“Wonderful,” she replies drily.

“It was smart to post from your account, Adrien,” Gabriel cuts in. He can’t help but think that the news wouldn’t be quite as well-received coming from him or Nathalie as it was from Adrien.

The likes continue to pour in. In the meantime, Gabriel and Nathalie conduct Google searches, browsing the various articles that come up. At this point, the announcement has been shared to major news outlets around the world, as well as tabloids, unfortunately, all of which are less kind than more professional reports. But Gabriel has never cared what the tabloids said before, and he refuses to start now. After rolling his eyes at a few overdramatic ramblings, he decides that they’ve all had enough of a taste of the trashy news sources, and he redirects them all back towards kinder words.

It doesn’t take long for HR and PR to call, and Gabriel steps into the corner to speak with them. The conversations don’t drag on as much as he’d feared they would, especially with the prior day’s call. He sets the record straight with the former and provides statements to the latter, and after that, it seems that everything will be sorted out without any major issue.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

His phone has been buzzing almost nonstop since the announcement, but as it buzzes again with the hundredth or so message, he gets an odd feeling, like a chill up his spine. Sure enough, his instincts turn out to be correct, as the name “Victoire” pops up on his phone.

Nathalie must sense the way he goes stiff beside her, because she leans into his space with a gentle touch of her hand and murmurs, “Your sister?”

He wordlessly nods, unsure of whether he should read the message in front of Nathalie, potentially stressing her out.

But Nathalie prods him with an impatient finger and says, “Open it, Gabriel.”

He takes a deep breath and does so.

She doesn’t wait for him to gather himself, grabbing the phone and reciting the messages herself. “‘Gabriel, this had better be a sick joke,’” she reads. “‘Are you doing this as some kind of petty revenge to spite me?’ And the next one, ‘Gabriel. Answer.’ That’s it for — wait, a new one just came in. ‘I cannot believe you would be so foolish. I expect better from you.’” Gabriel lets out an involuntary shudder. “‘It seems you’ve lost your way and I need to set you straight once more. I’m coming to the house.’”

Suddenly, Gabriel’s earlier exclamations of, “Let her come! What can she do to us?” feel like false bravado, and his tongue has turned to sandpaper.

Luckily, Nathalie and Adrien are determined in his stead. “Which of her houses is she staying at right now?” Adrien asks. “Is she still at the one in Saint-Tropez?”

“No, Gabriel mutters. “She’s back in Saint-Nom-La-Bretèche, unfortunately.”

“So she’s coming today. How long will it be?”

“At this time of day?” Nathalie cuts in. “About fifty minutes.”

It doesn’t feel like very long at all. Gabriel feels as if he should be more prepared, but he doesn’t know exactly what he could do _ to _prepare himself further.

He closes his eyes, wishing to block out the world, which has so quickly turned on him.

“Dad, are you okay?” Adrien asks. “You could just not let her in. It’s not like she’s going to break down the front door.”

“No, no,” he dismisses. “The entire point of this is so I can stand up to her. If I don’t do something, she’ll just continue her harassment, and that’s no better.” He curls his fingers, channeling his stress into fists. “We should get the two of you upstairs. I don’t want you to have to witness this inevitable mess.”

Immediately, Nathalie and Adrien begin to protest.

“Stop,” Gabriel says, bringing a hand to his head as their voices layer over each other. “Adrien, I will not willingly subject my child to Victoire’s abuse. And Nathalie, the last thing you need right now is another source of stress. You should be resting, not arguing with my sister.”

“Your sister is already a source of stress,” she tells him. “I’ll feel much better if I can be there to face her myself, whether I’m standing, sitting, or lying on the floor.”

Exasperated, Gabriel looks over to Adrien for support, but he finds none. “I agree with Nathalie. We’re supposed to handle these kinds of things as a team now. If she gets overwhelmed, we’ll be there for her, and the same thing goes for you and me.” He frowns. “And I may be your child, but I’m not _ a _child.”

“Legally, you are.”

“No offense, dad, but if I could handle _ you _literally kicking my ass across Paris as Chat Noir, I can handle some harsh words from my aunt.”

Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t play the Chat Noir card on me, Adrien. I’m trying to protect you for once instead of hurting you; must you really try to guilt me like that?”

“I’m not trying to guilt you,” he says, his tone a bit softer than before. “I’m just reminding you of the reality. I’ve dealt with far worse than Aunt Victoire. I mean, ignoring Papillon entirely, I still had to deal with Lila, who is a thousand times worse. Maybe I can even help you talk her down. I’m sure we can convince her to rethink her actions if we’re tactful enough.”

“You haven’t seen the worst of Victoire,” Gabriel insists.

“He is right about that, Adrien,” Nathalie chimes in. “She was absolutely brutal towards your mother before she became famous, but you were so young. We shielded you from a lot of it. You truly don’t know how awful she can get.”

“Exactly,” Gabriel sighs.

_“But,” _she continues, and Gabriel has a feeling he will disagree far more with the second half of her statement, “I tell you that not to say that you shouldn’t be involved, but to prepare you properly. Don’t underestimate your aunt. She’s never truly shown you her teeth.”

“How can you know what she’s like and still be willing to expose Adrien to her?” Gabriel demands.

“Because he’s _ right, _ Gabriel,” she says. “We need to stand together from now on. That’s what we agreed on. I understand that you want to protect us, but — trust, remember? _ Trust.” _

All of his instincts are protesting against him, but Nathalie’s even stare melts him down. “Please be careful,” he sighs. “Please be sure that you really _ want _to do this, not just out of your own stubbornness.”

“I’m sure,” Nathalie says.

“Me, too,” Adrien adds.

Gabriel closes his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go wait for her.”

He and Adrien pull a chair a bit closer to the door for Nathalie to sit in. After that, there isn’t much to do in preparation, and the time that felt so limited before now feels like an unwanted burden, giving them too much space to fill with stewing and worrying. Gabriel nearly jumps out of his skin when the doorbell finally rings.

He takes a deep breath, glancing back at Nathalie and Adrien, who give him looks of encouragement. He pulls the door open.

She looks as severe as ever, standing almost as tall as Gabriel, with white-blonde hair falling in a pin-straight, blunt cut to her shoulders. Her startlingly ice blue eyes are decorated with a smokey cat-eye shadow that doesn’t quite distract from the tightly-drawn lines around her pursed lips, which pinch a lit cigarette between them. Angular hands peek out from the slits of her purple cape-like coat, and one reaches up to take the cigarette and tap the ash away. Black, narrow-legged pants lead down her long legs to a pair of very expensive silver heels with pointed toes. As Gabriel lifts his eyes to her face once more, she raises a single brow, the several millimeters of difference voicing _ miles _ of disdain.

He tries to draw himself up, though he’ll never achieve the same ramrod straightness of his spine as she has.

He clears his throat, pushing his nerves down, but they rise right back up as she continues to bore her stare into him, causing his voice to crack.

“Hello, Victoire.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> Please just make sure to be polite to other readers.
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> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)
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So how awful do you think Victoire is going to be?


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel finally confronts his sister, but it doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More beautiful art!
> 
> This scene from Chapter 26 by tear22: https://tear22.tumblr.com/post/617752618901651456/in-spite-of-the-adrenaline-he-sleeps-better-than
> 
> Nathalie's maternity dress by tear22: https://tear22.tumblr.com/post/618301947566604288/she-looks-absolutely-angelic-in-a-long-dress-that
> 
> And another drawing of the maternity dress by thehopeelias: https://thehopeelias.tumblr.com/post/618125847724998656/more-tutb-fanart-i-really-wanted-to-try-this
> 
> Thank you so much for the beautiful art, you guys! I am so appreciative, and I hope you get shown plenty of love on your pieces!

🦋

“Gabriel,” Victoire says disappointedly. She drops her cigarette onto the top step and grinds it out under the ball of her shoe. “What in the world has gotten into you? I hear you’ve knocked up some secretary and now you’re playing house.”

“My significant other and I have announced our pregnancy,” he corrects, not so much ushering Victoire in as leaping back to avoid being trampled in her warpath.

“Hi, Aunt Victoire,” Adrien greets, though his entire expression is soured. After a moment, however, he seems to remember his manners, even if his aunt is undeserving. “Can I take your coat?”

She gives Gabriel a sharp glance. “Are you training him to be a model or a butler?” 

Regardless, she unbuttons her coat and drops it into Adrien’s arms. She looks him up and down, and he waits for further acknowledgement in a silent standoff. Her eyes narrow slightly as she takes him in, stepping closer.

“My,” she says, looming over him and placing a hand on his head. “You’re still quite short, Adrien. Let’s hope you haven’t gotten your mother’s genes.”

Gabriel catches a glimpse of Adrien’s crestfallen face before Victoire steps in front of him.

“Well?” she demands. “Why am I hearing this through news sites and tabloids rather than from you? Did you not think major news like this was worth mentioning to your own sister?”

Gabriel’s instinct is to shrink away, feeling much as if he was a child again, being pulled by the hair or punched in the nose, but instead, he forces himself to stay tall and firm.

“No, I didn’t,” he says. Victoire’s eyebrow leaps up again. “Perhaps if you’d been kinder to the woman I’m in a relationship with, I would have. But I saw no cause for that after you berated her and harassed her over a period of weeks.”

“Oh,  _ please,”  _ she drags out, bringing a hand to her forehead. “As if I don’t  _ know _ you, Gabriel. You’ve taken Emilie off the life support — another thing you neglected to tell me about, by the way — and now you’re feeling lonely. So you let yourself be enchanted by some — some harlot. Some gold digger. Your little secretary played her games and wormed her way in—”

Adrien’s face twists into anger, and Gabriel himself feels the need to interrupt again, but they are both stopped in their tracks by another voice.

“Nice to see you, too, Victoire,” Nathalie speaks up from where she’s seated several feet away. There’s a satisfied glint in her eye that Victoire might not recognize, but Gabriel certainly does.

Victoire at least has the decency to look taken aback at being caught spewing her poison.

Nathalie smiles a flat smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’d come greet you at the door, but it’s doctor’s orders that I stay off my feet,” she reveals, almost coy as she cradles her bump. “I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh, it’s you,” Victoire says drily.  _ “Wonderful.”  _ She turns around again. “Gabriel, could we have a word? In _ private?” _

“I was about to suggest the same,” he responds, finding that his tolerance has reached its limit very quickly.

Victoire has already turned on her heel and is marching towards the atelier as Gabriel looks back to Nathalie. She has a murderous expression on her face, and the words on her lips are abundantly clear as she mouths,  _ “This isn’t what we agreed to.” _

“We won’t be long,” he promises aloud, both to his partner and to his son. He turns to Adrien, who is still looking hurt and shell shocked from Victoire’s comments, and takes him by the shoulder. “Don’t take it too much to heart, Adrien. You’re becoming an adult, and this is her way of recognizing it. This is what I’ve put up with for years.”

“Gabriel,” Victoire snaps from the doorway. “Are you coming or not?”

“On my way, dear sister,” he grits out. He shoots Nathalie one last desperate glance begging for forgiveness as he passes by. She doesn’t give it, but it’s too late to go back. He hopes she’ll understand later on.

The door closes loudly behind them, echoing through the room. As he turns back to face Victoire, he finds her already on the offense, hands on her hips and looking ready to eat him alive.

“Really, Gabriel, I’m disappointed. And, quite honestly, shocked. I know you have the tendency to get swept away, but I’d have thought you would have more loyalty to dear Emilie, especially with her having passed so recently.”

Victoire’s words hit a sore spot, as the wound that Emilie left behind has not quite healed yet. “You have no right to even utter her name,” he snarls. “You had no love for Emilie. Do not play games with me.”

Victoire pays his warning little mind, however. “How could you say that?” she gasps, bringing a hand to her chest in faux injury. “Of course I did.” When she sees he is unmoved, she switches tactics. “Yes, I know we got off to a rough start, but eventually, we found common ground.”

“What you mean to say is you stopped minding her once she attained nearly the same level of wealth and fame I had.”

She huffs. “What is it with you and the overdramatics? I had many reasonable concerns over her. There are women out there who would bleed you dry. You know it for a fact; you dated some of them before you met her. Luckily, she proved herself.”

“I’m glad she rose to your standards,” he replies flaty. “I can tell you with utmost certainty that  _ Nathalie  _ has also proven herself time and time again. If anything, I’m the one who hasn’t earned  _ her.” _

Victoire laughs — a dry, aggressive sound. “You — the fashion mogul, millionaire, and worldwide celebrity —  _ you  _ haven’t earned the  _ secretary.” _

“Stop it,” Gabriel snaps. “She is not my secretary, and you’ve known her long enough to be aware of that.”

“Yes, yes, she’s the ‘executive assistant,’ or whatever PC title they’re giving it these days. Whatever you call it, it doesn’t change that she answers phones and spends a lot of time on her knees.”

Gabriel’s anger boils over, and for the first time that he can remember, it is  _ him  _ getting in Victoire’s face, rather than the other way around.

“That’s enough,” he growls. “Let me be very clear, Victoire; the only reason you are here in my home right now is so that I can tell you that I’m not putting up with your abuse anymore. Harassing my son and the woman I love is a line that I will  _ not  _ allow you to cross. Is that clear?”

She smirks at him. “Oh, Gabriel, how cute. Yes, I know, you don’t want to hear a peep about ‘the woman you love.’ It doesn’t matter that she’s young, and pretty, and would salivate if offered even a tenth of your income; what you have is  _ real.” _

He snarls, puffing himself up. To his satisfaction, Victoire takes a startled step back, finding herself against the wall. “Wrong answer. You may be used to being the know-it-all of the family, but in this case, you know  _ nothing _ about this woman. She has never once tried to come for my wealth, nor does she have any ambition to be in the spotlight. You seem to be under the impression that she swooped in to steal me away from Emilie, but she has been by my side for  _ years  _ as Emilie was ill, doing everything,  _ sacrificing _ everything to try to bring her back to me.”

Victoire blinks, her expression becoming impassive as she gets over her startled state. “I take it there’s more to this than meets the eye, then.”

Gabriel’s fingers twitch, itching for the fight that has quickly, inexplicably fizzled out. “You couldn’t even hope to scratch the surface.”

“Hm,” is all she has to say, pushing his arm aside and walking away to regain territory.

Gabriel frowns. “I owe Nathalie the world. I’ll pay the smallest fraction of my debt to her by telling you this: if you wish to stay, you will  _ play nice.  _ If you can’t do that, be prepared to not hear from me again unless it’s through a lawyer.”

Victoire rolls her eyes, sighing. She fishes in her pocket, taking out a pack of cigarettes. “Do you have a light?”

“We don’t smoke in the house,” Gabriel says.

Victoire draws a cigarette out of the box and holds it out expectantly. “If I’m tolerating this nonsense, then I’m sure you can bend a rule or two for  _ me _ . Light?”

Gabriel grits his teeth. “Not near Nathalie. Or Adrien.”

“Yes, yes, fine,” she dismisses, waving it impatiently. “I’ll put it out in here.”

He bites the inside of his lip. If the cost of taming Victoire’s animosity is a lit cigarette, it seems an easy price to pay. “Fine.”

Gabriel cracks a window, shivering as the cold air rushes in, and pulls a lighter from Nathalie’s desk drawer, knowing she keeps one to singe the ends of laces and edges of fabric. He lights up the cigarette, and Victoire breathes in. She exhales on a long sigh, and the room fills with the rancid smell of tobacco, an odor it hasn’t held in many years, since before Adrien was even born.

Victoire leans back in the windowsill, allowing the frigid breeze to flutter the sleeves of her iridescent blouse — white at its base, but shifting between pale shades of periwinkle and mint as well. Despite being dressed in such thin layers, she doesn’t seem to mind the cold, and Gabriel wonders why she bothered to come in a coat at all as she leans into the wind. “So,” she says, after taking several puffs. “What happened to your wife, anyway? The reports didn’t say.”

“Her condition was undiagnosed,” he lies smoothly. “It’s the reason that she worsened so quickly; there was no way of treating her.”

“Of course.” She taps her ash out the window. “And how did your secretary—?”

“—Nathalie.”

The corner of her lip twitches. “Nathalie. How exactly did she help? She doesn’t moonlight as a doctor, does she?”

Gabriel frowns, realizing he may have stated too much in his passionate defense. It is obvious now that it would sound overdramatic and perhaps even false to Victoire’s ear, especially without the context of the miraculous.

“She organized things when I couldn’t,” he says, and that much is true. Nathalie had taken over almost his entire job, save for the actual designing, for a period of several months after Emilie had fallen into her sleep. “She took over much of the business, she provided great emotional support for me when there wasn’t much of anyone else to turn to…” He can see that Victoire is unconvinced, so he adds one more falsehood, saying, “She applied for and managed to get us into many trials and experimental treatments for Emilie. Of course, it ended up not being enough to save her, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m eternally grateful that she tried.”

It isn’t _ entirely _ untrue. Using miraculouses to terrorize the city is about as experimental as a treatment could get, after all.

Victoire lets out another long sigh. “Alright,” she says, putting her cigarette out on the windowsill, and Gabriel is shocked that she’s been talked down from her vendetta so quickly. “I suppose your attachment to her at least runs deeper than lust. You can’t blame me for worrying, Gabriel. You have to admit that the optics on this are not fantastic.”

“I’m aware,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “There was never going to be a good way of announcing it. Luckily, Adrien’s support helps us significantly. He’s quite fond of Nathalie. She’s like another mother to him.”

“Hmm.” She holds out her cigarette butt, and Gabriel reluctantly takes it from her. “Well, I suppose there’s no reason to stay standing around in here. Come, Gabriel,” she orders, as if she owns the house. “Let’s rejoin Adrien and your little girlfriend.”

Gabriel shakes his head in disapproval, but he holds his tongue, acknowledging that Victoire’s new pet name for Nathalie is not as insulting as the previous ones. They walk back out into the foyer, and Adrien and Nathalie immediately look up at them as they enter. Adrien’s expression goes through several rapid changes as he takes in Gabriel and Victoire’s current peace with each other.

“Aunt Victoire!” Adrien exclaims, looking flustered. Gabriel wishes he could coach his son to not wear his heart so openly on his sleeve, clearly affected by Victoire’s manipulative actions and erratic moods. It is a feeling that Gabriel could personally relate to at one time, but knowing better now, he inwardly grimaces. “Are you leaving?”

“No, of course not, Adrien,” she responds. Her voice is far from gentle, but it has a bit less edge than it did when she first walked in the front door. Gabriel resists the urge to smack himself in the forehead as Adrien’s face opens up in surprise, becoming shiny and hopeful at Victoire’s lack of venom. “I’ve only just arrived,” she says, melting down into a chair like a cat.

Nathalie, sitting not too far from her, wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t say anything.

“How long are you staying in Saint-Nom-La-Bretèche for?” Adrien asks her, still cautious, but far too open. “Will it be for a while?”

“Well, as you may know, I just bought a vacation home in Gibraltar, just a little place, not even four thousand square feet, but I did intend to fly south for the winter. With all these…  _ exciting  _ new developments, however, I believe I’ll push that off; shouldn’t I, Adrien?”

Adrien casts a nervous glance towards Gabriel, but with Victoire also watching, he can’t provide much guidance. “We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” Gabriel says, hoping that his son will pick up on the hint.

“That’s right!” Adrien exclaims, and Gabriel releases some of the tension he is holding. “It’s great to have you here with us, but—”

“It’s settled then!” she croons, cutting off the second part of his statement as if he’d never even meant to voice it. “I couldn’t miss it for the world.”

She seems set on her word, looking quite at home where she has seated herself, as well. 

Sternly, she turns to look at Gabriel. “Now, Gabriel, how long have I been here? I’m parched, and you haven’t even offered me a drink.”

“My apologies,” he grits. “Your arrival was a bit chaotic,” he reminds her. “What would you like? Water? Tea?”

“Ugh, don’t play dumb, Gabriel; it doesn’t suit you. Big glass of Chateau Margaux, at least ten years old.” She turns to Nathalie. “Now, Natalia.”

“Nathalie,” she corrects. Gabriel, in the middle of sending a text to the kitchen, shoots a warning glare to Victoire, knowing very well that she knows Nathalie’s name by now and is only trying to ruffle her.

“Nathalie,” Victoire says sweetly, as if she hadn’t misspoken purposely. “When are you due? It looks like you waited longer than the traditional three-month mark to announce. Unless... twins?” she suggests delightedly.

“No,” Nathalie says. “One baby. Late March.” She doesn’t expand any further.

“I suppose it plays up the mystery of it all. That is what you’re going for, hm?” Neither Nathalie or Gabriel respond, unsure of how to acknowledge the late timing of their announcement. It hardly matters anyway, because Victoire steamrolls onwards. “Now, do you know the sex yet?”

“No,” Nathalie says.

“We haven’t decided whether or not to be surprised,” Gabriel adds. “We’re going to wait a bit.”

“A wise decision, Gabriel,” Victoire says, sounding far too astonished that he was capable of one. “You can’t take it back once you already know.”

“Obviously,” Nathalie whispers under her breath.

“What are you hoping for?”

“A baby,” Nathalie says flatly. This time, Gabriel directs a warning glance in  _ her  _ direction. She forces a smile onto her face. “Healthy, happy. That’s all we care about.”

Victoire turns conspiratorially towards Adrien. “They have to say that, but everyone has a preference. What about you, Adrien? Brother or sister?”

Adrien smiles uncomfortably. “I don’t think they’re pretending, Aunt Victoire. I’ll also be happy no matter what.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” she says in a tone too sharp to be genuinely teasing. One of the kitchen staff comes in with her glass of wine. She takes it, not even glancing up.

“Thank you, Phillipe,” Gabriel says, giving an apologetic look. 

Victoire immediately yanks his attention back. “Now you can’t have been together very long before you conceived. Tell me, truthfully, was it really planned?”

“Of course,” Gabriel lies, annoyed with Victoire’s line of questioning. “We’re not irresponsible teenagers.”

“Well, accidents happen,” Vicoire suggests innocently, as if she isn’t the kind of person to wrinkle her nose at an accident as well. “I was just wondering because the whole timeline of this seems very fast. Not that I’m judging,” she adds, in a tone that implies she is doing just that. She takes a long drink of wine, peering up at him under smoky eyelids.

“We’ve been good friends for a very long time,” Gabriel tells her. “When we entered a relationship, we became serious immediately. We already knew each other more than anyone.”

“I’ve always known that I wanted a family, and when Gabriel expressed that he was on board, we decided there was no time like the present,” Nathalie defends. “There was no reason to wait.”

“Other than for appearances,” Victoire says.

“To be quite honest,” Gabriel responds, “I couldn’t care less about appearances. The older I get, the less of a concern it is. Besides, we all know that a light scandal isn’t the worst publicity one can get.”

“Yes, well, you’ve always had an interesting approach to PR, Gabriel,” Victoire says. Nathalie stifles a laugh, and Victoire looks to her with hawk eyes. “What’s funny about that?”

Nathalie smirks, looking up at Gabriel as she teases, “Most would say that Gabriel has a very traditional approach, actually. He’s been accused of being quite the hardass.”

Victoire’s eyes narrow, and rather than responding, she takes another long sip of wine.

“It’s true that I’ve eased up a bit. The world is changing, and I had to catch up,” he says. “Adrien and Nathalie are far better at it than I am. The intense training by Mother and Father doesn’t even begin to compare to their natural knack for people skills.”

“We’ll find each other in disagreement over  _ that,  _ Gabriel,” Victoire complains. “What we were taught growing up is as relevant as ever. Just because the world has degraded itself doesn’t mean that  _ we  _ need to forgo all propriety.” She takes another sip from her glass.

Nathalie looks about ready to commit a murder.

“Well,” Victoire says, “you never did tell me how exactly it is you two got together after years of being boss and secretary.” Gabriel shakes his head. “And… friends.”

Nathalie hesitates. They hadn’t decided a full story yet on how they became involved, and it is clear that she’s worried about conflicting with a previous statement of his.

“It was after I decided to let Emilie go,” Gabriel answers for her. “By then, I’d recognized my growing affection for Nathalie. She asked if I was sure I wanted to do it, knowing there was no going back after we took her off the machines, and I said I’d never been more sure in my life. And I let my feelings slip.” He throws a glance to Nathalie, hoping that she’ll pick up on his encouragement to finish crafting their story.

“I was taken aback, of course. I didn’t want to take advantage of him in a vulnerable state,” Nathalie adds. “He’d never hinted at this before; it all seemed very sudden. I rejected him at first. But eventually, he proved to me that his feelings were genuine,” she says with a small smile as the fake story lines up with the real one.

“How romantic,” Victoire grates. “Well, I must say I’m surprised, Nathalie. You’re young; you seem healthy. Why bedrest? Is it preeclampsia?”

“No,” Nathalie says. A bit unsurely, she tells her, “It’s an unrelated condition.”

“Oh?” Victoire asks, leaning in. Gabriel clenches his jaw, uncomfortable at the heavy handed faux interest that Victoire is piling on. “And what would that be?”

The brief second of silence to follow is awkward. “Dizzy spells,” she says. “There’s concern that if I get one standing, I could fall and hurt the baby.”

“Hmmm. That’s just awful. What do they stem from?” she asks, voice echoing in the glass at her lips.

“It’s undiagnosed.”

“My, another undiagnosed condition?” Victoire gasps. “Why, Gabriel, the women of this family seem to have such poor luck with their health. You’re not poisoning them, are you?” She throws a sharp grin at Nathalie. “Watch your drinks, dearest.”

“Watch yours,” Nathalie quips back. “It looks like someone drained it all while you were distracted.”

A flash of anger passes over Victoire’s face before being replaced by a simpering smile. “It went quite quickly, didn’t it?” she remarks, tapping a nail against the hollow glass. She glances at her watch. “Well, my glass is empty and it’s getting late. This was an unexpected visit, after all, and I have other commitments to attend to.”

“That’s a pity,” Nathalie says, not sounding like she means it at all.

“I’ll say my goodbyes to you here, so you don’t have to rise for my account,” Victoire says, leaning over Nathalie’s chair. Nathalie looks quite disgruntled as they kiss cheeks, but she does it nonetheless. “And I must apologize for my earlier behavior,” Victoire continues. “You must admit it looked suspicious, and I am quite protective of my little brother. I’m sure you understand.”

Nathalie’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh. Yes. Thank you for saying that.” She gives Gabriel a confused look as Victoire glides over to Adrien. Gabriel can only shake his head back, not seeing any explanation for Victoire’s sudden change of heart.

“We must do this again sometime,” Victoire croons. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Adrien? It’s been so long since we had quality time together.”

“Um, yeah,” Adrien says, glancing unsurely at Gabriel again. “That would be nice.”

“We’ll see,” Gabriel says noncommittally. As much as he’d like to believe that all animosity is behind them, he knows that Victoire’s prejudices run too deep for her sudden shift to be genuine.

“I’ll give you a call,” she responds. “No need to walk me to the gate. Ta-ta for now!”

Gabriel shuts the door behind her, and the foyer falls into a confused silence. Finally, after several seconds, Nathalie speaks.

“What the  _ fuck?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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What do you make of Victoire's change in demeanor?


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship. Friendship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the irregular update schedule! It's due to the Mini Bang (my stories are coming up soon)!

🦋

The entire household is a bit shaken by the bizarre encounter with Victoire, and her odd civility doesn’t end with her visit. 

In the week and a half that follows, she stays extremely in touch, to an amount that Gabriel sees as stifling. Their days are littered with frequent calls and texts from her, and soon, Nathalie receives a lengthy apology letter. Victoire’s sudden flip to sickening sweetness has stuck, and it continues to baffle him.

For his part, he is suspicious, and he does the bare minimum to entertain whatever game she is playing. By the end of her impromptu visit, he’d already begun to regret making a deal with her in the first place, especially once he returned to Nathalie from the front door.

“What was  _ that?”  _ she had demanded. “You said we would stand together as a team, Gabriel.”

“I know,” he said, positioning himself at the arm of her chair. “But the abuse was too much, Nathalie. I needed to lay down the law.”

She rubbed at her forehead saying, “I’ll admit she was more agreeable afterwards but…” she trailed off with a sigh. Quickly, she brought her hand to cover her nose and mouth. “Were you smoking?”

“Not me, just Victoire,” he’d said.

Nathalie retched.

“Nathalie—”

“Go stand over there,” she said aggressively. “Go!” He jumped back, Adrien coming to her side instead. After a few moments, she brought her hand to her chest, breathing deeply. “I’m okay. I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to him. “I’m not angry. It’s the smell; it’s making me nauseous.”

He took the tips of her fingers into his own, not coming too close. Quickly, he pressed a kiss into them. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I’ll shower and change right away.”

“Okay,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Thank you.”

But the stench of smoke had become a mark of shame, and the fact that it made Nathalie ill was further proof for him that he’d made a poor choice in taking Victoire into his atelier to speak privately. He’d made a deal with the devil, and no amount of scrubbing could make him feel clean, even after the tobacco smell had been washed away with a vigorous shampoo.

As the days stretch on, each text he receives and every call he answers with his sister on the other end makes him feel as if he’s walked into a cloud of her cigarette smoke all over again.

Adrien, on the other hand, has fallen into the new routine with gleeful enthusiasm. At first, he’d still been slightly wary, as Victoire’s earlier treatment of Nathalie weighed heavily on his mind, but Gabriel could tell instantly that Victoire’s apology had gone a long way in softening him. It was a flaw in Gabriel’s son — one of very few — that he was so optimistic and forgiving. Once Victoire gave Nathalie a glowing compliment over the phone that Adrien was privy to, it was over. Her hooks were in him in an instant.

What is more alarming to Gabriel than the frankly predictable enchantment of Adrien however, is that Nathalie eventually begins to be won over as well. The first several days, she had been prickly and annoyed as Victoire continued to reach out, but as the week wears on, they’ve developed an odd sort of companionship. As Victoire continues to give advice for Nathalie’s cramps and migraines and other pregnancy symptoms, despite never having had children herself, a kind of wary trust has formed. And when Victoire finally visits again at the end of the week, it’s a much calmer experience, though it fills Gabriel with prickling dread for the entire hour.

Especially since there’s still a serpentine look in her eyes under all the sugary sweetness.

Yet in spite of Victoire’s careful civility and Nathalie’s gradual forgiveness, they are not exactly fast friends yet, a fact that Gabriel is grateful for, considering he doesn’t trust his sister as far as he can throw her.

But Nathalie does have another friend. Gabriel has come to realize that outside of himself, Adrien, and possibly by extension, Marinette, Nathalie’s closest and most trusted companion is Raimunde, who had tried to help her months earlier in her panic. Once Nathalie has been reassured that Gabriel bears Raimunde no ill will for trying to help her in her time of need, she begins to open up, expanding on their history as friends and showing interest in introducing them to each other.

Gabriel’s first impression of Raimunde is that she is an optimistic and warm person, and a loyal friend to Nathalie. He soon encourages Nathalie to invite her over for a visit, sensing a need for companionship outside the family.

He hopes rekindling Nathalie’s friendship with Raimunde will negate the need for Victoire to be in the picture.

A date is finally set, and Raimunde agrees to come to the house on a Monday afternoon, her day off from the office. Gabriel finds himself anxious and flustered, wanting desperately to leave a good first impression on Nathalie’s friend, a task that he is informed could be an uphill battle due to the limited information Raimunde has been given.

Including a lie that the baby had been conceived via a one night stand.

Apparently, this had been the cover used months before. After a claim like that, there is no going back, so now Raimunde is the only one to know “the truth.”

That is the thought that is weighing on his mind as he opens the front door for her, causing the back of his neck to go hot. Luckily, for him, Raimunde has a kind, non-judgmental face to match her general demeanor, whether or not she is secretly loathing him on the inside.

She is a pretty, pleasant-looking woman with a round, freckled face and curly auburn hair. Her light pink t-shirt, layered under a navy blue coat, contrasts well with her brown skin and brings out the warmth in her eyes. There is a sense of trustworthiness about her, and immediately, Gabriel is reassured further that her presence in Nathalie’s life is a beneficial thing.

“Raimunde?” he asks, just to confirm that it isn’t a stranger standing on his doorstep.

She gives him a small, relaxed smile. “That’s me. You must be Gabriel.”

“Yes. Pleased to meet you,” he says, and they cordially kiss cheeks.

“Wow, you have a lovely home,” she remarks, looking around the foyer. Her eyes flick down. “Those tiles are incredible.”

“Thank you,” he says, and looking for a way to continue conversation, adds, “They were custom done.”

“I’m envious,” she remarks, looking around some more. “High ceilings,” she laughs. “Very nice.” There is a brief silence.

“I presume Nathalie told you she’s on bedrest?” Gabriel cuts back in, sensing that the small talk has reached its natural end.

“Yeah, and I’m so glad to hear it’s helping with her other condition. When I saw her last, it was really bad.”

“We’re not in the clear yet, but she’s doing much better,” Gabriel responds. “I’ll take your coat,” he says, and she hands it off to him. “She’s laying down in my office right now; follow me.”

Raimunde makes a beeline for the couch as Gabriel heads to the back of the room to hang her coat. He turns back around to find both Raimunde and Nathalie beaming at each other, actual tears in Raimunde’s eyes as she cups Nathalie’s face.

“I have been so worried about you!” she exclaims. “But you look well, Nathalie. You were so pale and thin last time I saw you, but you look wonderfully healthy now!”

“I am feeling a lot better,” Nathalie confirms. “And Gabriel has been taking good care of me.”

“You seem to have hit every stroke of luck in the past few months,” Raimunde remarks, shaking her head. “No more medical crises, or at least none that bedrest couldn’t fix, healthy pregnancy — 24 weeks now, right? — and of course you two figuring things out.”

“It hasn’t been all sunshine and roses,” Gabriel admits, sitting down on the other side of Nathalie. “We had a bit of a scare a few weeks back.”

Raimunde looks to Nathalie in surprise. “You didn’t tell me that! What happened?”

“My sister,” Gabriel says, expression turning sour. “She said some quite antagonizing things.”

Nathalie tuts at him, lightly scolding. “We’re on much better terms now. But it did cause me considerable stress at the time. I had an attack — Oh, you don’t want to hear about this.”

“I do!” Raimunde insists. “Nathalie, I thought everything was on the upswing. Why didn’t you mention that?”

“It  _ is  _ on the upswing. There’s not much to it. Victoire is just very protective of Gabriel; you know how big sisters are. Both of yours are that way, too.”

“That’s true,” Raimunde admits. “Especially Fleur.”

“Oh, god,” Nathalie reminisces. “Do you remember how upset she was when she found out we wanted to go out to that new club?”

“I know!” Raimunde says. “You’d think we were fourteen years old instead of pushing thirty at the time.”

Joyful chatter extends into the afternoon, mostly between Raimunde and Nathalie, but Gabriel doesn’t mind. He is perfectly content to sit back and listen to adventures of old, wishing that it hadn’t taken him so long to earn a glimpse into Nathalie’s social life.

Eventually, he and Raimunde get better acquainted, and she begins to ask about the pregnancy and the relationship. At this point, he feels that a critical eye is turned on him, but for all the questioning that is thrown his way, there isn’t a single shred of animosity in it, only an interest in the truth. All in all, it seems that despite the odds, he’s managed to get into Raimunde’s good graces.

An hour passes quickly, and it is not long after that there is a knock on the atelier door. Adrien comes rushing in, face flushed. “Dad, I need—”

“We have a guest, Adrien,” Gabriel reminds gently.

Adrien’s eyes go wide, and his mouth forms a surprised “oh” shape. “I’m sorry, Miss—”

She cuts him off with a sparkling laugh. “Just Raimunde, hon.” She smiles at him. “Such a sweetheart,” she remarks. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Me too!” he says excitedly, before remembering whatever had brought him barreling him in in the first place. “Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but could I borrow my dad for a few minutes? It’s important.”

“Go right ahead,” she says with a wink. “We could use some girl time anyway.”

Gabriel follows Adrien out into the hall and up the stairs, where he begins to pace nervously.

“Adrien, what is it?” he asks, fearing the worst.

“Lila was expelled today,” Adrien exclaims.

Relief washes over him. “Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” he asks. “That means she’ll no longer be harassing you and Marinette.”

“Yes! No. I don’t know!” His strides grow longer and more agitated. “I’m glad that the school finally did something, but I didn’t think she’d be expelled. Isn’t that a bit too far? Did you have to tell them to do that?”

“I didn’t tell them to do anything,” Gabriel reveals. “I reported the situation. The only demand I made was that they investigate it seriously.”

Adrien stops walking, relaxing a bit. “Oh. Good.”

“If the school decided on expulsion, I’m sure it met an extreme that they couldn’t ignore.”

“Yeah,” Adrien says. “I just didn’t think it would go that far. She was so angry, too. I kept expecting an akuma until I remembered… you know.”

Gabriel winces. “No akumas,” he promises, even though he’s not in possession of the miraculous anyway, and couldn’t if he wanted to. “How did Marinette take it, by the way?”

Adrien’s brow wrinkles. “Not as well as I thought,” he says. “Which is really weird! Lila has been tormenting her for months, but Marinette barely even reacted when we found out. That’s why I was so worried that we did the wrong thing.” He deflates a bit. “I don’t know, though. She just seemed out of it today, even before the expulsion. Maybe it’s something else?”

“It could be,” Gabriel muses. “You should check in with her, regardless; make sure this hasn’t upset her. The last thing I’d want us to do is to inconvenience her when our goal was to help.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Adrien says, smoothing down his hair from where he has mussed it with his stressed hands. “Sorry for overreacting. I don’t know why I’m so on edge.”

“You’ve taken a lot of responsibility for this,” Gabriel suggests. “It can take some time to adjust to such a large concern being resolved.”

“I feel the need to do something,” Adrien admits, flexing his fingers, “even if there’s nothing else to do.” He startles himself out of thought. “I should let you get back to Nathalie and Raimunde. I’ll try to channel some of this energy into texting Marinette,” he says sheepishly.

“Of course. Keep me updated.”

Adrien frowns down at his phone, already deep in concentration.

Gabriel shakes his head fondly and makes his way back down the stairs, walking towards the ajar door of the atelier.

Raimunde’s voice floats out. “So you conceived right after he took his wife off life support?”

He grimaces, coming to a halt, and decides to let this uncomfortable part of the conversation end before introducing himself back into it. It is only sure to be awkward if he walks in now.

“Yes, but I swear it’s not what it sounds like. I didn’t take advantage; we both just needed somebody. Of course, I had no idea that it would lead to —”

“I know,” Raimunde assures her. “I’m not judging; that’s not the issue I have with the timing of all of this.”

“What is it, then?” Nathalie asks, and Gabriel is curious to know what the concern is herself. “I know it’s unconventional, but—”

“It’s nothing to do with you. It’s… him.” His heart skips a beat nervously.

“I don’t understand. Where is this coming from? I thought you were getting along fine!” Nathalie protests, and Gabriel had thought the same. “I thought—”

“Nathalie,” Raimunde says, carefully and seriously, cutting her off, “I know this will be hard to hear, but it’s serious. I think Gabriel might be Papillon.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Uh oh?


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The threat of discovery is evaluated. Marinette has problems of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My two fics for the GabeNath Mini Bang post tomorrow and the following day. I hope you all enjoy!

🦋

Before he can even fully process Raimunde’s accusation, Gabriel finds his feet rushing him away from the atelier as quickly as possible. His blood is pumping in his ears, too loudly for him to think as he runs back up the stairs.

All he knows is the instinct to hide. Typically, he’d do so in the underground sanctuary, but the only path that exists to it is through the very room he must avoid. Instead, he finds himself in he and Nathalie’s bedroom, pressed against the door with it locked behind him.

He heaves out uneven breaths, trying to regain his rhythm despite feeling as if the world has turned on its head.

It’s been months since he’s been so terrified.

He slides himself down to the floor, feeling as if his legs are not much use anyway. There, he trembles, yearning for something, but not knowing what.

Comfort, perhaps? He could have gone to Adrien, but his fear was too great, pushing him toward solitude instead.

He tries to rationalize his way out of it. It was an odd joke that he missed the setup to. A prank. Anything other than a serious speculation about his past.

Every explanation he can come up with is a poor one.

He curses the universe that this has happened. He thought the worst was finally behind him. But now, just as he is finally moving on in his new life, Papillon is coming back to haunt him.

The most unbearable part, perhaps, is that he could have withstood the accusation coming from anyone else. If it had been an errant thought of some random civilian, a rumor in his company, or even the suspicion of his own sister, it would be easier for him to brush off, as long as no proof was offered to connect him to Papillon.

But Raimunde is possibly Nathalie’s closest friend. To know that she sees him as Paris’s villain is a hard pill to swallow, even if she has no evidence.

Even if she is correct.

He shudders, closing his eyes. He can’t stay in this pitiful position forever, curled up on the floor like a fearful child. He realizes, now that he’s regained some sense, that running away only makes him look all the more suspicious. If he is away too long, it is only further confirmation of Raimunde’s theory.

He stands up, doing his best to pull himself together. He unlocks the door, fingers reluctant to turn the handle, and makes the dreaded journey downstairs.

As he finds himself in front of the atelier door again, there is a tense silence radiating from the room. Deciding that it’s better to enter while there’s no conversation he shouldn’t be privy to, he squares his shoulders and walks in, trying to act as if he is none the wiser to what has caused this uncomfortable atmosphere.

Immediately, he sees Nathalie’s discomfort and worry. He debates whether to acknowledge it or not; Nathalie is not an easy person to read, but by now, he is well-acquainted with her tells. He would sense her anxiety from a mile away, even if he wasn’t aware of the cause.

Trying to remain somewhat casual, he heads over to her. “Sorry for the interruption,” he says. “Are you alright, dear? You seem upset.”

He doesn’t miss the way Nathalie tightens her jaw as her eyes dart to Raimunde. “Fine.”

“Are you sure?” he presses, feeling her forehead. “You’re looking pale as well. Perhaps you need to rest.”

Nathalie immediately latches onto his suggestion. “You’re right; I’m starting to wear out.” She looks back to Raimunde. “I hate to cut this short, but I need to stretch out my legs and then lie down for a bit.”

“I completely understand,” Raimunde says, gathering her purse. Her brow is furrowed as she glances at Nathalie surreptitiously. “I’ve got my coat, thank you, Gabriel,” she continues, cutting off his path as he rises to retrieve it for her.

“We’ll walk you to the door,” Nathalie says, reaching out to Gabriel for help off the couch.

He pulls her upright, holding on a moment longer as she twists and stretches her back. They make their way back to the foyer, the atmosphere much more somber than before.

Raimunde turns back to Nathalie before she leaves. “And my…  _ problem _ that we talked about. Can that stay between us?”

Nathalie worries her lip between her teeth. “Okay,” she sighs.

Raimunde gives her a relieved look. “Thank you.” She turns to Gabriel. “Nice to meet you, Gabriel,” she says with a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. 

He struggles to school his own features to neutrality. “You as well,” he returns, coolly, but politely. “Hopefully our next meeting will be uninterrupted.”

Nathalie shuts the door and walks over to the window, watching in agitated silence as Raimunde descends the steps, gets into her car, and drives off.

The second the car has departed from view, Nathalie whirls around to face him. “Gabriel, we have a problem. Raimunde—”

“—Suspects I’m Papillon. Yes, I overheard,” he reveals.

Her eyes are blown wide, stunned for a moment, before panic contorts her features once more. “What do we do?”

“For now, we get you up into bed,” he says evenly, pushing down his writhing anxiety for her sake. “Unless her next destination is the police department…”

“No. No, she has no evidence, but—”

“Then it’s a concern, not a crisis,” he says, even though his rushing adrenaline is telling him otherwise. “My first priority is your health. You’ve been sitting up a lot today, and now you’re stressed. I want you reclined and resting,” he insists, scooping her up.

She lets out an indignant yelp. “I don’t need to be carried.”

He doesn’t open the topic up for argument, not after noticing the way she’d been rubbing her back for the past five minutes. Wordlessly, he carries her up, and she sighs, dropping her head against his shoulder in defeat.

After he settles her into bed, he suggests, “Should I get Adrien?”

Nathalie hesitates. After a moment she nods, though her brows are scrunched in displeasure. “The last thing I want to do is worry him when he already has something on his mind, but he should be aware. This could cause issues for him and Marinette, after all.”

Gabriel gives his agreement and heads down the hall to Adrien’s room. He knocks on the door, heart beating erratically all over again as he prepares to deliver the bad news.

“Dad,” Adrien groans, opening the door. He barely glances up, captivated by his phone, or more likely, the girl on the other end. “I appreciate the advice, but I’ve got it handled. Something happened before school, and I’m trying to figure it out, and Marinette is gonna come over in a bit but—”

“It’s not that,” Gabriel cuts in. “We have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“Nathalie’s friend suspects me of being Papillon.”

Adrien nearly drops his phone. “What?” he exclaims, stuffing it into his back pocket. “Why? How much does she know?”

“I don’t know the whole picture yet. We wanted to let you know first so you could be part of the conversation if you so choose.”

“Well, come on!” Adrien grabs him by the sleeve and drags him back down the hall to the master bedroom. “Nathalie,” he cries, bursting into the room, “what happened? How does she even suspect?”

Nathalie sighs, looking terribly tired. She pats the bed, and both men take their seats. “Not to downplay the severity of the situation, but it’s just a suspicion. She doesn’t have any proof.”

Adrien relaxes, but just barely. Gabriel waits on bated breath to hear how Raimunde reached her assumption in the first place.

“From what I understood, there were too many coincidences that I couldn’t explain. First she noticed the butterfly motifs around the house, and of course how they are so present in the brand.”

“We’ve made public statements on that,” Gabriel protests. “Everyone knows that—”

“It’s only one piece of it,” she says, cutting back in. “And besides, while she knew about the brand, she was surprised to see the pattern so much in our own home.”

Gabriel’s brow furrows. “What else?”

“When you left to talk to Adrien, she wanted to know about the beautiful rose window around the back, and what room it was part of. She wanted to know if you could show it to her when you returned.”

“And?”

“I told her it was an attic being used exclusively for storage space, not built for foot traffic, but she didn’t believe me,” she rants. “I know it wasn’t the best lie on my part — who would put a window like that in an empty attic—?”

“Hey!” Adrien says. “That’s what I believed long enough.”

“And then she had questions about the timing of us getting together and—” She buries her head in her hands with a groan.

“I think this is the part I overheard myself,” Gabriel tells her. “It seems that our one night stand story bothered her.”

“Altogether, she found it suspicious,” Nathalie confirms, lowering her hands. “She says you’re a man of too many secrets, and isn’t it odd that you finally showed interest in me right after Emilie was laid to rest?”

Gabriel looks down. “What did you tell her?”

Nathalie shakes her head, becoming more agitated. “I don’t even know; it all was so fast. Once she revealed her suspicion, I… I suppose I tried to shift all the blame to myself. I heavily implied that I had been trying to convince you to move on before you were ready, but she didn’t buy it.”

Gabriel covers her hand with his own, hoping to soothe her. “Does she suspect you as well?”

“No,” Nathalie says, rubbing her eyes. “And I don’t know whether that’s better or worse. She thinks that I wasn’t willing to admit it to myself, but deep down, I knew. That’s why I acted so afraid before;  _ that’s  _ why I hid the pregnancy. My instincts were telling me you were bad news from the beginning, even if I wasn’t conscious of it yet. ”

“For my part, I prefer that she thinks the worst of me and the best of you,” he assures her softly. “The last thing I want is for you to be implicated if this gets worse.”

“Oh, Gabriel,” she says with a sorrowful laugh. “If this escalates, I’ll be implicated anyway. Especially with our new relationship.”

Gabriel clenches his hands into fists and his shoulders rise, muscles tensing as he tries to work through the problem.

“Maybe there’s some way to prove her wrong,” Adrien says. “Even though she isn’t.” He snaps his fingers, an idea coming to mind. “The Collector, for example! Only we know that the Butterfly holder can akumatize themselves. Did you remind her that he got akumatized?”

“I did,” Nathalie says. “It wasn’t enough to convince her. She figured there was a simple explanation behind it; that Mayura had acted as an accomplice and akumatized Papillon for him.”

Gabriel cocks his head, struck by the simple genius of the thought. “Why didn’t we think of that ourselves?”

“Dad!” Adrien exclaims, scandalized.

He jolts, realizing the inappropriateness of the question. “My apologies,” he says, shaking his head.

“I have no idea what to do, Gabriel,” Nathalie confesses. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to convince her.”

They are interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Gabriel feels the urge to jump out of his own skin, immediately assuming that the police are on their doorstep.

Adrien steadies him with a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Dad,” he says. “It’s just Marinette, remember?” He rises from the bed. “Hey, honestly, this is perfect timing. It’s something that she should know about anyway, and I’m sure she can come up with a plan.”

“If you’re sure, Adrien,” Nathalie says. “We know it’s not her job to cover for... criminals.” Her shoulders droop.

Gabriel shoots her a sharp look. “Perhaps not, but let’s not discourage them from helping us if they want to.” He sighs, “Go answer the door, Adrien. You can decide how you wish to proceed.”

Gabriel’s brow furrows as Adrien leaves. He turns his attention back to Nathalie.

“I know this is a terribly difficult thing for you,” he says, laying his hand over hers, “but please try not to let it get to you. We are more than criminals, dear. Our past is not everything that we are.”

“Isn’t it?” she asks desperately. “Just now, the part of your mind that is still Papillon took over, analyzing strategy, wondering if we could use Raimunde’s assumption to strengthen our alibis.” She bites her lip. “And the part of my mind that is still Mayura did the same.”

“But the will isn’t there,” Gabriel insists. “It was a fleeting thought, Nathalie, nothing more. I certainly have no desire to be a villain again, do you?”

“No, of course not,” she protests. “But—”

“Then that’s all there is to it,” he says firmly. “It’s our past, not our future. And I know that we are much more than that. You, for example, are going to be a wonderful mother,” he says, drawing her close. “That is a much more important part of your life than Mayura could ever fill.”

Her eyes soften, becoming more relaxed. “Thank you, Gabriel,” she says. “I’m just shaken by today. By Raimunde.”

“I am too. But perhaps our Ladybug will have an idea.”

A few moments later, Adrien returns with Marinette in tow, and Gabriel’s confidence begins to slide. She is definitely in a darker mood than usual; her eyes are downcast, and even her signature pigtails are drooping. Her tone is dejected as she says, “Adrien says your identities are compromised.”

Gabriel frowns at her demeanor, but nevertheless, lets her know, “It’s not quite to that degree yet, but it could be if the person in question goes snooping.”

“Okay,” Marinette says, rubbing her forehead. More and more, Gabriel gets a sense of her foul mood. “I don’t know what we can do for now, but I’ll sleep on it tonight. Maybe we can invent some kind of alibi if it escalates further.”

“We’re sorry that it’s come to this,” Nathalie says. “I know this complicates things for you and Adrien. We never thought that anyone would become suspicious months after our surrender.”

“I know, Nathalie,” Marinette says, and at the very least, she doesn’t seem angry, just tired.

“Our issues aside,” Gabriel cuts in, “is everything alright, Marinette? I hope my interference with Lila didn’t cause you additional problems at school.”

“No, no,” she says with a breathy laugh. “No, thank you so much, Mister Agreste. Without that bit of relief, I don’t know how I would have made it through the day. Now my only problem at school is Chloe.” She wrinkles her nose in distaste.

“Did something else happen?” Adrien asks, grabbing her hand. “I didn’t think anything could be as bad as Lila, even with Chloe’s new attitude problems.”

“No, it’s nothing to do with school. Or Chloe. And it’s not as  _ bad,” _ she starts, biting her lip as she considers her words. “It’s just stressful. You know I’ve been training with Master Fu to take over Guardianship. Well, he sprung a lot on me last night that I wasn’t prepared for.”

“Like what?” Adrien asks.

“You don’t have to get into it here,” Nathalie assures her. “We understand if you’d rather talk to Adrien in private—”

“Like the whole miracle box,” Marinette huffs. “He kept his own miraculous, of course. And the Peacock, so he can continue studying it.” There’s an uneasy silence before she acknowledges what Nathalie has said. “To be honest, I don’t care about privacy. Master Fu wouldn’t want you to know any of this, but…” she trails off, tears bubbling in her eyes. “I wasn’t  _ ready  _ for this.”

Gabriel expects Tikki to reprimand Marinette for talking so openly about her new responsibilities, but the kwami simply hovers at her shoulder, looking uncharacteristically solemn.

“He gave me no warning, and holding onto the miracle box is pressure that I wasn’t prepared for. I’m so paranoid. I barely slept at all last night, and I’ve been on edge all day. I know it’s stupid, but I keep thinking that someone is going to sneak in and find it while I’m unaware.”

“Marinette,” Adrien says with kind concern, “I know you take this seriously, but you don’t have to worry so much. I’m sure you chose a good hiding spot for it; nobody is going to find it while you’re out of the house.”

“Oh, I know,” she fumes, shouldering off her backpack and letting it drop to the floor with an unceremonious  _ thunk,  _ far heavier than it should be. There is an uneasy silence.

“Is that—?” Adrien asks.

She lets out a frustrated scream and buries her head in her hands.

“Can I help you with it?” Adrien suggests. “Maybe we can share the burden.”

“Adrien,” Gabriel cuts in, now hyper aware of any actions that could suggest a return to villainry. “As much as I want you to be able to lift some of this off of Marinette’s shoulders, consider that it may not be appropriate for me and Nathalie to be under the same roof as so many miraculous.”

To his surprise, Marinette lets out a laughing sob. “Mister Agreste, don’t you understand? I have no worries about either of you. I know it’s insane, but the two of you have relieved so much pressure from me, I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

“Marinette…” Nathalie says, touched.

“This secret is so hard to bear sometimes,” Marinette says. “Having someone else know, regardless of the circumstances, is the greatest gift in the universe. Adrien and I actually have adults to turn to for guidance now. We never had that before.”

“Not even from the Guardian?”

“No,” she exclaims. “I didn’t even know who he was for months! He’s always taken a backseat role.”

“That’s true,” Adrien admits. “I was in the dark for even longer. As grateful as I am that I’ve gotten to be Chat Noir, a lot of this was thrown at us without any preparation.”

“I’ve never had such a green kitten,” Plagg chimes in. “All my previous wielders had at least some training before I came into the picture.”

“It was the same for me and Marinette,” Tikki squeaks. “She screamed the first time she saw me. She had no idea what I was or what she was getting into.”

Gabriel is flooded with guilt, knowing in every cell of his body that this pressure never would have been put on Adrien and Marinette if he had never taken up his foolhardy quest. “I don’t believe I’ve said this to you, Marinette, and I’ll never be able to say it to Adrien enough, but I’m sorry. Truly, from the bottom of my heart. I know you’d never have been dealt this hand if I hadn’t—”

“Don’t even suggest it,” Adrien interrupts fiercely. “As much as what you did was wrong, as much as it was difficult for us at times, I would never give it all up. Being Chat Noir has changed my life. And it brought me closer to Marinette. I couldn’t trade that.”

“I agree,” Marinette says, firm in her stance. “Being Ladybug has had its challenges, but it’s given me so much, too. I just wish that Master Fu could take this Guardian stuff slower.”

“Perhaps I can still help in some way,” Gabriel says. “While I wouldn’t recommend leaving the box here and directly disobeying the Guardian’s orders, I can provide you with extra security. Whatever you need, I can provide it for you: a safe, a surveillance system, anything.”

Marinette wipes her face. “Thank you, Mister Agreste. Really. I’ll see what I can do to help you and Nathalie in return. I know this is the last thing you need to be dealing with with the baby on the way.”

“You can do this, Marinette,” Adrien assures her. “We’re all here for you, and I can help you set up anything you need at your place. For now, just try to relax. Focus on something positive.”

“Something positive!” Marinette exclaims. “Of course! I can’t believe I forgot.” She turns out to Nathalie and Gabriel once more. “For once, I have some good news.”

Gabriel’s hand instinctively reaches for Nathalie’s. “What is it?”

“The one advantage to my training is I get to see Master Fu’s progress with the cure firsthand. There have been some setbacks in the past few weeks, but he’s really close now,” she says, grinning. “He only has one more set of calculations left to double check his work. He’s confident he’ll be done within a week.”

In an instant, Gabriel forgets all his troubles, taking in the first unburdened breath that he can remember in a long time. “Really? He’s certain?”

Marinette scratches her head. “Well, don’t hold me to it. With this kind of magic, there’s no knowing exactly. It could be shorter, or it could be longer, but he sounded pretty sure of it. Just stay out of trouble and try to relax. We don’t want Nathalie to have another episode before then.”

“I’m sure we can do that,” Nathalie assures her. “We can manage a week of peace.”

“Of course,” Adrien responds, sounding far less sure, and Gabriel is inclined to have doubts of his own. “How hard could it be?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
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So can they manage?


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling just short of the finish line.

🦋

It takes all of four days before Gabriel finds Lila on his doorstep to break the peace.

After he’d dropped her from his brand, he’d received many calls and texts that were easy enough to ignore. To his satisfaction, Lila hadn’t had the guts to make an actual appearance at the house, not after Gabriel made it clear that he would not be partnering with her again.

It seems that expulsion is the final straw, however, and with nothing left to lose, the bitter Italian girl continuously rings the buzzer, refusing to stop even after she’s been denied entry. After twenty minutes, and Nathalie informing him that she is developing a headache, Gabriel finally caves in.

After all, he doesn’t want anything to interfere with Nathalie’s recovery, especially since they are so close to finally having a cure. The knowledge that they are likely only days away from getting her back to health has him treading extra carefully, as if one misstep could knock down an entire trail of precariously-placed dominoes. If an unpleasant conversation with an angry teenager is all it takes to keep Nathalie relaxed, that is a price he is willing to pay.

Lila is fuming on the front step when he finally opens the door to her. He lets out a resigned sigh and says, “Right this way, Ms. Rossi.”

He leads her into his atelier, where Adrien is already waiting. Neither of them trusts the kind of tricks Lila may pull one-on-one, so for safety’s sake, they’ve decided to confront her together.

Lila pushes past Gabriel. “Adrien!” she cries with crocodile tears as soon as she sees him. She latches onto him, wrapping her arms around him like greedy vines. He immediately stiffens, trying to push her away without becoming too aggressive. “Please,” she wails, “tell your father to take it back. You can’t hate me so much that you want me expelled! I know you're upset because of whatever Marinette told you, but that’s no reason to… to be like  _ Chloe!  _ You’re better than that, Adrien; I know you are,” she sniffles, looking truly pitiful.

For a moment, Gabriel wonders if he will have to step in, but after a moment of steeling himself, Adrien slips himself out of Lila’s grasp and pointedly puts distance between them. “No,” he says firmly. “I’m not being anything like Chloe — who has her ups and downs, by the way. She’s not always this bad.”

The play for Adrien’s sympathy is immediately dropped, and Lila’s face contorts into an alarmingly vicious expression. “It’s exactly like Chloe,” she argues. “Who is getting  _ worse.  _ What else would you call dragging  _ Daddy _ into it and pulling strings with the school board?”

“My father didn’t pull any strings,” Adrien tells her. “And I didn’t ask him to do it.”

“I offered myself, Miss Rossi,” Gabriel cuts in, and she whirls around with shocked indignation to face him. “But you’ll find that I didn’t use any of my influence to get you expelled. All I asked was that the school investigate thoroughly, and it seems you violated their code of conduct on multiple counts. There is nothing more to it than that.”

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” she screeches, storming towards him. She drops her volume, hissing, “I thought we had an agreement. None of this was part of the plan. It’s because of you that Adrien ended up with that Marinette brat, and I’m sure you can’t be happy about—”

“I was mistaken,” he says, and Lila’s face twists with disgust as he continues, “I was misinformed about Marinette. Adrien cares for her deeply, and I have seen firsthand that she is an exceptional girl. But she wasn’t the only one I was misinformed about. I was under the impression that you cared about Adrien’s wellbeing, and it seems that was never the case. Imagine my surprise when I found out that you had been disrespecting his boundaries and continually harassing him.”

By now, Lila’s face has turned stark white. It takes a moment for her to compose herself, but once she does, she gives him a sickeningly sweet smile that makes him nauseous. “Mister Agreste,” she says smoothly, even at her low volume, “this is not a path you want to go down. How do you think Adrien would feel if he found out his father was responsible for trying to ruin the life of his beloved girlfriend?”

Gabriel remains unmoved, giving Lila nothing more than an even stare.

Her eyes narrow. “Is this all a joke to you? I’ll tell him! I’ll—”

“Tell him,” Gabriel insists. “Go ahead.”

Lila recoils, clearly displeased at her bluff being called, and with righteous anger, she turns again to Adrien. “You think that your father has your best interests in mind, Adrien, but did you know that he asked me to intervene in your personal life? Did you know he wanted to tear down sweet Marinette?”

“Yes,” Adrien says simply.

Lila’s eyes bug out. “And that doesn’t bother you?” she exclaims, thrown by his answer. “He asked me to cause trouble for Marinette; don’t you understand?”

“I do,” he confirms. “I already knew.” He looks at Gabriel. “Dad told me all this already. Of course it bothered me, but he’s apologized for it and tried to make things right — something that you haven’t done, Lila.” He frowns. “You know, I might have tried to help you get back into school if you’d actually shown some remorse, like he did. But it’s obvious that you don’t care about the people you hurt; you only care that you got caught.”

“Adrien—”

“I think you should go,” he says. His eyes flick uncomfortably away as she turns on the waterworks once more, but he stands firm in his decision. “There’s nothing I can do for you.”

“I stand by my son, Miss Rossi,” Gabriel says, walking towards the two of them. “We’ve all heard what each other has to say, so I must ask that you leave my house.”

Lila lets out a frustrated scream, storming towards Adrien, but Gabriel is quick to step between them, causing Lila’s clenched fist to meet his chest.

He is a strong man, and her punch likely hurts her own hand more than it hurts him, but his blood boils with the knowledge of where it was directed. “And now you’ve attempted to assault my son,” he growls. “Out, now, or I call the police. You have overstayed your welcome.”

Lila is still fuming, but even she is not so stupid as to tempt a visit from the authorities. “Fine,” she grits, cradling her bruised hand. “But you’ll regret this.”

She turns on her heel and exits the atelier, stomping out into the hall with Gabriel and Adrien following. She doesn’t wait to be shown out, opening the front door herself and slamming it behind her.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t come back.”

Gabriel turns around, surprised to see Nathalie sitting behind him by the staircase. He goes to her, immediately worried to see her downstairs with no explanation. “Nathalie, are you alright? What are you doing out of bed?” he asks, kneeling at her side.

She cups his cheek with a gentle smile, sending a rush of warmth from his face down into his toes. “Nothing is wrong, Gabriel. Your sister texted and said she was going to drop in. I wanted to be here in case I had to divert her away from Lila.”

Gabriel tenses, absentmindedly rubbing at the bruise forming on his chest. “She didn’t say she was coming.”

“She texted me while you and Adrien were dealing with Lila.” Her eyes narrow. “You’re angry again.”

“I’m not angry,” he swears. “I’m only…” But he can’t find the right words to explain how he feels about Victoire’s increased presence in his house.

Nathalie shakes her head, rubbing her face exasperatedly. She bites her lip, seemingly battling with herself until she says quietly, “This needs to stop.”

“What does, dear?”

Nathalie gazes out at the room in thought, face tinged by a pinch of sadness. “She’s been…  _ kind _ , Gabriel.” Gabriel squares his jaw, and she takes notice, reaching out a hand to plead his patience. “The way she attacked initially is unacceptable, and don’t get me wrong: I will never be able to fully trust her after the pain that she caused. But…” She sighs, leaving her next sentence unfinished.

“Yes?” he encourages gently. As much as the mere mention of Victoire’s name sends a crawling dread up his spine, he recognizes Nathalie as the voice of reason between the two of them. She deserves to be heard out, no matter how he may disagree.

She is also the one that Victoire has wronged the most.

“I understand!” she blurts. “I don’t agree with it; she  _ hurt  _ me both emotionally and physically, but I understand. She was only trying to protect you and—”

Gabriel grabs her hands, snatching them out of the air where they gesticulate wildly as she gets more and more worked up. “Nathalie—”

“Aren’t we just as bad?” she asks.

He squeezes her hands in shock, a bit too firmly, judging by her wince. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, releasing her and taking a step back. He stands unsurely, off-balance after having his breath stolen by her unexpected comparison. His tongue runs along the back of his bottom teeth as he searches for any reasonable response. “What she did was  _ horrible,” _ he finds himself saying. “You nearly died.”

“I nearly killed people, too!” she exclaims. She runs her hands nervously down the front of her sweater, abruptly stopping with a disarmed expression as she reaches her bump, as if she’d forgotten it was there. This seems to send her further into distress, curling her fingers around the plush fabric and compelling her to wring it between her clenched fists. “We both did far worse things than tossing insults and judgments around. We were violent. We traumatized children.”

Guilt sinks within him, and a bit of anger, too, at being reminded of his own transgressions. “I don’t understand. Where is this all coming from?” he asks, reaching for her.

To his chagrin, she dodges his touch, tilting her head away. “I just feel bad. At least she apologized. I think we should give her a chance. Especially after all the second chances that we haven’t even earned for ourselves, but have been shown to us anyway.”

“Nathalie,” Adrien breaks in. “Please don’t say that about yourself. You and Dad have earned it. I promise.”

Nathalie smiles sadly at him and takes his offered hand. She shakes her head and then drops her chin to her chest.

Adrien looks sharply at Gabriel, shooting him a stern gaze.

“The last thing I’d want to do is upset you,” Gabriel says to Nathalie. “If it means that much to you, I’ll try to heal my relationship with her.”

“I don’t want to guilt you into it,” she protests. “I know there is legitimately bad history between the two of you that I could never even dream of comprehending—”

“Nathalie,” he assures her, “please, if there’s anyone who has the right to hold a grudge against Victoire, it’s you. I’ll do my best to make amends with her if it makes you happy.” This time, she allows him to bend down and kiss her on the cheek.

“Are you sure?” she asks, reaching up to play with her necklace, a large, old piece of jewelry that she has owned ever since they took their fated trip to Tibet years ago. It hangs heavily around her neck, like a weight. “Now that I’ve said it aloud, I’m afraid I’m being unreasonable.”

“No. Say no more,” he orders. He runs a loving hand through her hair, stopping her anxious hands. “I owe you far more than a reconciliation with my sister. When is she set to arrive? I’ll even call for her wine so she doesn’t get frustrated at the delay,” he says, pulling out his phone.

“Let me check,” Nathalie says, retrieving her own. Her brow furrows. “That’s odd. She already texted that she arrived several minutes ago, but I haven’t heard a knock. Let’s go see.” She pulls herself to her feet with a bit of effort and nearly falls back, luckily caught by Gabriel.

“Careful,” he warns, taking an extra moment to make sure she is steady on her feet. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she says, laughing a little bit breathlessly. “I suppose I’m not entirely used to this new center of gravity.” She gives her growing belly a loving pat. “I’ll have to be more careful with my balance.”

“And I’ll have to be more attentive,” Gabriel says, wrapping an arm around her back. 

“You guys just stay there,” Adrien tells them, giving Nathalie a soft-eyed look of his own. “I can get the door.”

“Thank you, Adrien. You hardly need to be  _ more  _ attentive, Gabriel,” Nathalie teases lightly, pulling his focus back. “You hover enough as it is.”

The front door brushes open, bringing a cold gust with it. Gabriel wraps his arm a bit tighter around Nathalie at the first sign of a shiver. He looks up at the doorway and takes an involuntary step back.

“What are you still doing here?” Gabriel bites, displeased to find Lila Rossi standing on his front step, speaking with his sister.

“Gabriel,” Nathalie and Victoire admonish, the former more gently than the latter. At least Adrien is giving Lila an equally hard look, no more pleased than Gabriel at her continued presence.

“We were just having a conversation,” Lila says innocently, quickly stuffing her hands into the pockets of her mint green blazer. Gabriel thinks he sees a flash of something grasped in her uninjured hand, small and flat, but he is too slow to catch it. He makes a mental note to check later that nothing has been stolen from his atelier. “I’ll go now,” she sighs, taking on a wounded expression that fails to earn her any sympathy. With one last glance over her shoulder, she turns away and walks down the driveway, out of the gates.

“What was that all about?” Gabriel asks, realizing a second later how accusatory his tone has automatically become. He forces his displeased expression into the semblance of something more worried as he informs Victoire, “You can’t allow yourself to be fooled by her age or demeanor. That girl is nothing but trouble.”

She tightens her lips and shifts her oversized purse on her shoulder. “I wanted to say hello; I thought she might be one of Adrien’s friends until she opened her mouth about  _ you,  _ Gabriel. Dear lord, did she have a lot to say.”

“And I’m sure very little of it was complimentary,” Gabriel says.

“Was any of it true?” Nathalie pipes up, teasing.

“Ah,  _ mon chou,  _ hello!” Victoire croons, coming close to kiss her in greeting.

Nathalie’s nose wrinkles a bit, likely at the faint smell of tobacco that still lingers on Victoire’s clothing, or perhaps the oddly diminutive term, but she doesn’t say anything.

“She told a sliver of truth,” Victoire informs them, eyes gleaming mischievously. “But there was a load of bullshit to go along with it.” She lowers her gaze, raking her eyes across Nathalie’s throat. But then, Gabriel thinks, he must have miscalculated her eye line, because Victoire is clearly gesturing at Nathalie’s stomach, curving out gracefully under her violet sweater. “My, you’re getting big. How exciting!”

“You saw me just last week, Victoire,” Nathalie reminds good-humoredly. Nevertheless, she rubs a tender circle over her belly.

“Well then,” Victoire says, “the little thing is growing quickly, because I most certainly see a difference.” She shrugs off her coat, this time a long, dramatic piece of cerulean blue — revealing a matching dress and knee-high boots underneath — and hands it off to Gabriel. “My wine?”

“Already on its way,” Gabriel says, unable to stop himself from shaking his head in disapproval.

“Wonderful,” Victoire responds, oblivious to his judgment. “Let’s sit down, shall we? We need to get mama off her feet.”

Nathalie shoots him a look as if to say,  _ I told you so,  _ but despite his promise to her, he isn’t entirely convinced. After all, for all of Victoire’s amicable behavior, there is still something calculating in her expression.

He shakes his head. In all likelihood, his bias is getting the best of him. If he could change his ways, so can Victoire. He’s fairly certain that he is a much better person now than he was a year ago, but apparently his demeanor is still cause for suspicion for some. He thinks of the hurt of having Raimunde assume the worst of him. He thinks of how it feels to be shackled to his past — the frustration and longing.

He’s  _ trying  _ to be better.

Perhaps Victoire is too.

So as they sit down, and Victoire eyes Nathalie with a look akin to hunger, he tells himself that he is misreading her entirely. She is interested, nothing more. Maybe even a little protective. Her intentions are good, even if her hawklike eyes suggest otherwise.

“Oh, I almost forgot, I picked up a little something for you,” Victoire says, proving herself even further. She pulls a mid-sized wrapped box out of her purse, thrusting it towards Nathalie. “Here.”

“Oh,” Nathalie says, with pleased surprise. “Thank you, Victoire. What’s this?”

“Open it,  _ ma chérie,”  _ Victoire instructs.

Nathalie tears into the shiny red paper, pulling out a box of fancy baby monitors. “Oh!”

“I know you were concerned that the house is so big, you might not always be able to hear the baby… These are top of the line, and they come as a set of four. You’ll have ears all over.”

“Thank you,” Nathalie says, genuinely touched. She has been having resurgent anxiety over the adjustment they’ll all be making soon, pre-parenthood jitters that he has already gone through himself but still experiences slightly this second time around. “I feel so much better already.”

“And another,” Victoire says, reaching into her bag. She hands a second package to Nathalie, this time wrapped in a blue paper just as bright and garish as the red. As she does so, Phillipe enters with her wine. “Ah, perfect timing,” she praises, and his eyebrows raise for just a moment in surprise before retreating to their impassive position. “Leave the bottle,” she instructs. “No reason to have you running back and forth.”

Gabriel bites back a comment about Victoire’s excessive drinking, and he can see that even Nathalie is struggling to do the same. However, she shakes her head, choosing to ignore Victoire’s request, and distracts herself with opening the second present as Victoire takes a generous gulp.

Nathalie makes a face, which Victoire is thankfully too preoccupied to catch, seemingly intent on drinking half her glass in one go. Gabriel cringes as Nathalie pulls out a bright pink maternity top out of the wrapping paper, not at all her style and looking too small already for her six-months belly, though that may just be the appearance of the tight, stretchy fabric that is meant to hug one’s frame.

Just like that, his suspicions rise again. Victoire is fashionable. At sight, he can tell that her boots alone are over 600 euros, and beyond that, they are meticulously matched to the rest of her outfit. She is dressed in full monochrome, a difficult feat, especially in that very specific shade of blue.

She may look down on the industry, but she’s intertwined with it, whether she’ll admit it or not.

He  _ knows  _ that she knows better. The blouse she bought may be expensive, but it is undeniably hideous, which she is well aware of. Not to mention that as the partner of a fashion designer, Nathalie is not at all wanting for more outfits. Gabriel has made her far more than what she could possibly ever wear, which she has shown off to Victoire on many occasions.

Nathalie hesitates, showing just as much confoundment as him. “Thanks,” she says, far less enthusiastically this time. He can see the wheels turning as she tries to give Victoire the benefit of the doubt. Even Adrien grimaces as he gets a good look at that awful garment.

She lays the abomination of a blouse to the side, but not without giving the baby monitors another fond glance. Gabriel falls further into confusion. The first gift is kind and thoughtful. He can’t imagine why the second wouldn’t be equally tasteful.

Perhaps Victoire just misjudged. She is considerably older than Nathalie. She may have overcompensated and bought something that a much younger woman would appreciate more. Although he still wonders how the gift in question could appeal to  _ anyone. _

By now, there’s not much left in Victoire’s glass, but she swirls her wine around as she asks, “Now, that girl I met on the front step. What’s her problem?”

“Nothing,” Adrien and Gabriel say quickly. Seemingly  _ too quickly,  _ as Victoire raises a single, disquisitive brow at their instant matching responses.

“Well,  _ that’s  _ certainly not true. She was spouting obscenities like you cut off her big toe.” She pours another glass of wine and looks up, considering her statement. “Come to think of it, I never did look down to count.” The wine fills up almost to the brim before she tips the bottle back up and returns it to the table next to her.

As ridiculous as the suggestion is, Adrien is horrified. “We didn’t do anything to her!” he exclaims. “All we asked is that she leave us alone.”

“She had a contract with the brand,” Nathalie explains to Victoire. “We ended it, due to conduct issues on her part, and she’s been at our throats ever since.” She leans back wearily, bringing a hand to rest over the curve of her stomach. “She had trouble taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

Victoire takes a long sip of wine. “Hmm. What kind of conduct issues?”

“She was harassing Adrien at  _ collège _ and bullying his girlfriend, Marinette,” Gabriel says. “It was severe enough that the school decided to expel her.”

“Oh, how awful! Do tell me more.”

Adrien begins to describe what Marinette suffered at Lila’s hands, often getting sidetracked to deliver a tangent on how incredible his girlfriend is and that he can’t believe anyone could ever hate as wonderful a person as her. But Victoire seems to get impatient with his details regarding Marinette, taking long drinks of wine and rolling her eyes in a gesture that Adrien doesn’t catch, but Gabriel does, making it harder and harder to bite his tongue.

“Yes, Adrien,” Victoire finally says. “Marinette sounds like an absolute doll, and this has been quite the emotional ordeal. But you haven’t told me much about the other girl. What exactly did she  _ do?” _

“Oh. She lied a lot,” he says, looking a bit uncomfortable. “She’s super manipulative — Look, we don’t have to talk about this; it’s just petty drama. I’m just happy that I don’t have to see her everyday anymore, and Marinette can finally get some peace at school.”

Victoire purses her lips in dissatisfaction. But the sourness dissolves in a moment, leaving a simpering smile. “Of course, my darling.” She takes another long drink of wine, nearing the end of her third glass. She reaches for the bottle once more.

“Victoire. Don’t you think that’s enough?” Gabriel asks, unable to stop himself this time from intervening.

She glares at him, looking as if she’s about to snap, but a sharp inhalation of breath from Nathalie interrupts the tension.

“Dear? Are you alright?” Gabriel asks, already leaning forward to rise as he sees that she is frowning, hand pressed to the top of her tummy.

“I’m okay,” she says, a bit breathlessly. “The baby is in its favorite spot right now: right under my diaphragm.”

Gabriel relaxes back, giving her a soft smile. “Of all the places to wander to.”

Nathalie returns his smile with her own, given freely, despite the discomfort she is experiencing. She arches her back, pushing her belly out and attempting to give herself a little more room to breathe.

“Carrying high still,” Victoire comments. Nathalie nods. “It’ll drop soon enough. Now, I don’t suppose you know yet whether you’re having a little Antoine or Camille?”

“Victoire,” Gabriel warns sharply.

Nathalie shoots a confused look. “What do you mean, Victoire?”

“A boy or a girl, of course!” she exclaims excitedly, setting her glass down firmly on the tabletop.

“Uh, no. We’ve decided to be surprised.” She glances at Gabriel. “I’m a bit confused by what you mean by Antoine or Camille. I don’t believe those are names we’re considering.”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t be considering them, since you already know. Antoine if it’s a boy; Camille if it’s a girl,” Victoire says decidedly. Her brow slowly furrows as she looks around at a room of disagreeing faces. “Don’t tell me you’re bucking tradition.”

“I’m not —” Nathalie stops herself, forcing patience. “I’m afraid I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I’m not trying to offend.”

Victoire turns her ire towards Gabriel. “She doesn’t even  _ know?” _

“We’ve had a lot on our minds lately,” he protests weakly. “We’ve barely even begun to discuss—”

“It shouldn’t even be a discussion,” she snaps back. “You know this. The children are named after our grandparents, as it’s been for generations. As Adrien is already named after our paternal grandfather, the next male should be named for our maternal grandfather. And a female should be named for our paternal grandmother.” The slant of Victoire’s eyebrows is frightening, becoming more and more severe as she speaks.

Gabriel bites his tongue, weighing whether or not to chime in. As much as he’s itching to jump to Nathalie’s defense, he remembers his promise to be civil — something that he’s not sure he can uphold if he opens his mouth at this point.

“Like Gabriel said, we’ve had a lot to deal with lately,” Nathalie says instead, attempting to mollify her. “I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding.”

“It better be,” Victoire bites, leaning back in her seat but still somehow appearing to be on the offense.

“I’ll have Gabriel catch me up later,” Nathalie promises. She shifts in her seat, rubbing the top of her belly once more. “Oh, finally,” she breathes in relief, repositioning herself. She looks down. “I thought you were going to make a home in my ribs, little one.”

Gabriel’s tongue unglued itself from the roof of his mouth. “Poor dear,” he sympathizes. “Has our baby settled now?”

Nathalie gives him a gentle smile. “No, it’s still kicking around in there, but at least it’s moved its feet down.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Victoire exclaims, practically leaping out of her seat and rushing to Nathalie. Nathalie looks taken aback, but says nothing as Victoire reaches for her.

Before Gabriel can do anything about it, she has her talons splayed across Nathalie’s belly. His own fingers curl around the arm of his chair in displeasure at Victoire showing so little concern for Nathalie’s personal space, especially as Nathalie herself looks as if she’d love nothing more than to shrink back from Victoire’s touch.

“I can feel the little feet,” Victoire claims triumphantly.

Nathalie’s eyes dart to the side. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable—”

“It’s strong!”

Nathalie, Adrien, and Gabriel share uneasy glances, equally unsure of how to inform Victoire she has crossed a line without upsetting her. Nathalie’s lip is pulled to the side, a sure sign that her own patience is wearing thin, and Gabriel isn’t entirely sure he can or wants to stop her from scolding Victoire if her generosity runs dry.

Victoire’s focus shifts upwards. “Oh, look at that lovely necklace. I didn’t even notice. Where did you get that,  _ ma chérie?” _

“I picked it up some years ago in Tibet. Victoire, could you please—?”

“Exquisite,” she croons, leaning in closer. She scoops the irregular turquoise stone off Nathalie’s chest. “What a beautifully crafted piece.”

Nathalie leans back, bringing a hand over her mouth and nose. “Victoire—”

“I’ll have to track one down for myself. Whereabouts in Tibet?”

“Please,” Nathalie says, her desperate tone sending Gabriel to his feet to intervene. “The smell of smoke. It makes me ill.”

“I just want a quick look—”

“I need more space—”

Gabriel and Adrien both speak up, approaching the women.

“Victoire—”

“Listen to her; you’re making her sick!”

Nathalie gags.

“That’s enough—”

“I’m not doing any harm—”

Finally, Nathalie pushes Victoire away. She brings a hand to her chest, gasping in a full breath of clean air. Gabriel and Adrien stop where they are, breathing twin sighs of relief.

Victoire frowns. “Really, Nathalie, don’t be dramatic.” She walks towards her again, dodging Gabriel’s hand as he attempts to pull her back. “I’ve hardly even smoked today. Now, let me get a good look. I’m just admiring your jewelry.”

Nathalie throws up on her boots.

Victoire looks down, blinking in shock with an open mouth. Gabriel can’t help but feel as if she’s earned what she deserves. For a moment, everyone freezes, processing what has just surpassed.

Victoire finally steps back, still looking down at her ruined shoes. Tears are glistening in Nathalie’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Victoire, I—” She stops, staring at the mess. Her apologetic expression melts away. “No, actually. I’m not.” She looks up at Victoire, hurt and anger swimming in her eyes. “I told you I wasn’t feeling well. I  _ asked _ you to remove yourself from my personal space.” She wraps a protective arm around her belly. “You don’t respect my boundaries. You never have.”

_ “Boundaries?”  _ she laughs callously. “No,  _ ma chérie _ , don’t you understand? You don’t  _ get  _ boundaries.” Her expression twists into something gruesome. “You may have wormed your way into my brother’s heart but you will  _ never _ be anything more than a common whore, a little bug under my heel that I have been so kind as not to crush before now.”

Nathalie’s expression is one of shock, just as Gabriel is sure his own is, but she pulls herself up tall in her seat — the picture of regality — proving every one of Victoire’s words wrong. “And you will always be a venomous, unloveable snake,” she bites. But then, her eyes soften. “It must be lonely. I pity you, Victoire.”

With an enraged cry, Victoire lunges forward. To Gabriel’s horror, he is once again too slow to catch her.

Thankfully, Nathalie’s reflexes are sharp. She grabs Victoire’s wrist, stopping its trajectory, and with her free hand, decidedly strikes Victoire across the face, returning the slap that Victoire had intended to deliver to her.

“It’s time to leave,” Gabriel says, edging closer to pull his sister away. “We’ve given you enough second chances.”

He should have known better that to think his sister would take an order from him.

Victoire turns her head back towards Nathalie. “You’ll regret that.” She pounces on Nathalie, grabbing her by the collar of her sweater, and lifting her out of the chair.

“Don’t touch her!” Gabriel exclaims, breaking into a run. Nathalie falls to her knees as Victoire drags her forward, pulling her across the floor with a vengeful snarl. Within moments, Gabriel and Adrien are on them, trying to separate them in a confusing tangle of limbs.

After what feels like far too long, Adrien manages to pull Nathalie back into a protective hold. Seeing that she is safe out of Victoire’s grasp is all the encouragement Gabriel needs to turn his attention to the attacker in question. He grabs Victoire by the front of her dress, much as she did moments ago to his dear partner, and pushes her back against the staircase railing.

His fists clench, and the only bit of self control he has left is for Nathalie’s sake. He pushes Victoire more aggressively against the rail, taking twisted pleasure in the way she flinches her head away from him in fear. “There is something terribly wrong with you, and I will not entertain it further,” he hisses.

To his disbelief, Victoire’s eyes hold only fury as she opens them once more. They seek out Nathalie, and she darts out from under his arm and back in the direction she came from, intent on assaulting her once more. Gabriel catches her by the arm. He draws his fist back.

_ Crack. _

Victoire falls onto the ground, howling, and clutching her face.

Assured that she is down for the count, at least for a moment, Gabriel looks back over his shoulder. Nathalie is sitting on the floor with her knees raised defensively in front of her, weeping into Adrien’s arms. A great, shuddering sadness rattles through him.

“My nose!” Victoire yells. He turns back to see it bleeding profusely. “You broke my nose!”

“It’s no more than you deserve,” he bites back, feeling not the slightest shred of remorse as she brings her fingers to her crooked bridge and cries out. “You attacked the soon-to-be mother of my child; what on earth did you expect?”

“Agrestes are supposed to stick together. To look out for one another and uphold honor, which you have so easily lost,” she grits.

“Then perhaps I am not an Agreste,” Gabriel proclaims. “I’d much sooner renounce my name than renounce her.”

Victoire laughs, a disgusting, crackling sound as blood bubbles out from her nose. “All for this lowly little bitch. You never listen and you never learn.”

He grabs her roughly by the arm and yanks her to her feet, perhaps a bit too violently.

“Dad!” Adrien protests.

Even Nathalie softly cries, “Gabriel.”

He loosens his hold, just a little. “Enough of this. I want you out of my house.” When she doesn’t move of her own accord, he tugs her out into the entryway, swinging open the front door and throwing her out.

“My coat—”

He slams the door shut, stalks away to get her coat, and reopens the door, tossing it down to her feet.

“Don’t put that on the ground!” she shrieks. She picks it up, realizing too late that both of her hands are covered in her own blood.  _ “Putain.” _ She looks up at him, eyes wild with fury. “You ruin my boots, my coat, my  _ nose—” _

“You’ll end up with much worse than a broken nose if you ever even lay eyes on Nathalie again,” he spits. “Do not contact us again.” He slams the door shut once more, this time with finality. He latches it behind him.

Then he stops for a breath. But only one.

Nathalie’s sobs pull him quickly back to her. One hand is clenched around the fabric above her chest, and the other holds onto Adrien like a lifeline. Adrien himself is wrapped entirely around her like a living shield, his face nuzzled into her shoulder.

Gabriel drops to his knees, reaching to cup her face. “Oh, my love,” he whispers, kissing her creased brow. “Did she hurt you?”

Nathalie shakes her head. Her sobs are interrupted by little hiccups and coughs. After a moment, she corrects herself, nodding ‘yes.’

Gabriel wraps himself around his partner and son, drawing them close. “It’ll be okay,” Gabriel promises, even as his gut twists. “What hurts?”

Her head falls onto his shoulder and she rubs her chest. He lightly pulls down the collar of her shirt to look for any marks or bruising. But she simply shakes her head again, a gesture that confuses him until she breaks into a coughing fit.

Gabriel and Adrien exchange alarmed looks. The fit thankfully doesn’t last long, and Nathalie gasps, gulping in air as she’s done.

“I’m sorry,” she rasps. “It’s all my fault. I encouraged this; I told you to give her a chance—”

“None of this is your fault. She’s a despicable creature who tricked us all. Tell me what’s wrong. What can I do?”

She shakes her head. “Tightness in my chest. She just scared me, I think.”

“Adrien?”

“I—I’m fine,” he stutters. “Just shocked. Not even a scratch. I’m more worried about—”

Nathalie rubs uncomfortably at her chest, breaking once more into coughs, more violent than the first.

“No,” Gabriel murmurs, fearing the worst. He rubs her back. “Breathe, dear. Breathe.”

“Nathalie?” Adrien asks in a small voice.

Finally, after far too long, the coughing stops. Her head hangs heavily.

There is a pit of dread in Gabriel’s stomach, “Nathalie.” She sniffles. “Look at me.” When she doesn’t respond, he reaches a hand under her chin and pulls it up.

The first thing he catches sight of are her eyes, sad and apologetic. But terror doesn’t truly sink in until he looks to her lips and sees his worst fears come to life.

Red. Bright red.

Her lips are coated in blood.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
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> Please just make sure to be polite to other readers.
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>   
The clock is really ticking now. Can Nathalie make it long enough for a cure?
> 
> And on a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you despise Victoire?


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight with Victoire exacerbates Nathalie's condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ShadowMayura's fanart of Victoire in the last scene: https://shadowmayura.tumblr.com/post/621091781480710144/shadowmayura-credit-to-mymayura-for-creating

🦋

Gabriel paces anxiously, waiting for the man on the other end to pick up. Instead, the phone rings and rings continuously, never answered, not even sent to voicemail to bring Gabriel out of this hellish limbo.

With a frustrated cry, he ends the call and tosses his phone aside, burying his head in his hands.

He feels the urge to weep, but for all he tries, he can’t get the tears to come.

It’s for the best anyway, because Nathalie needs him to be strong. He is brought out of his wallowing by a low moan from the next room. He quickly pockets his phone and runs back into the bedroom.

“Nathalie,” he says, quickly joining her on the bed. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened, Dad,” Adrien tells him softly from his position at the end of the bed, sitting in a tight, worried ball. “She’s just the same as a few minutes ago.”

Another moan escapes her lips. Her head tilts back as she rubs her belly.

“You’re sure you’re not in premature labor?” he asks, reaching out a comforting hand of his own. “I worry that you need a hospital.”

“I’m sure,” she insists breathlessly, bringing tired, pained eyes towards him. “It’s not contractions. It’s... more of an ache. A burning. It’s the energy of the miraculous; I could recognize it in a heartbeat.”

“Still. Maybe Raimunde—”

“Raimunde can’t do anything. Neither can a hospital. Only the Guardian can fix this.” She sighs, “Besides, the last thing we want is to give Raimunde more cause for suspicion.”

“I’m not worried about that; I’m worried about  _ you,”  _ he insists, bringing his hand up from her belly to her cheek. “I’d give up my identity in a heartbeat if it could make this right.”

“I know,” she says, and there’s fear in her eyes as she says it. “I know you would. But it’s not even worth considering. She can’t help us, Gabriel, not with this.”

“Are you sure you gave me the right number, Adrien?” Gabriel asks, feeling his frustration rise once more at the knowledge that Nathalie is right. “I can’t get through to him.”

“I’m sure,” he says. “I sent it right from my contacts.”

“I’ve tried five times with no answer. Let’s compare to be sure.”

“Gabriel—” Nathalie cuts off with several coughs, instantly drawing his eye back. “It’s possible he simply doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” Gabriel grits. “You need help.”

She wraps gentle fingers around his arm. “I know you’re worried. But I promise you, it is not nearly as bad as the first time that Victoire caused trouble for us. As long as I stay rested until the cure is ready, I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. This pain — it’s not like it was before. It’s not as sharp.” She looks at him pleadingly. “I don’t want to see you torn apart over this. At most, we have a week to wait, and I know I can manage that.”

“You’re in pain.”

“I’m in discomfort,” she corrects, but her eyes say otherwise. There is a muffled cry in the back of her throat and she turns away, trying to hide her twisted expression from his worried eyes.

“You’ve always been too good at hiding your pain from me,” he says. “So good that I know better than to take your self-diagnoses at face value.” He turns her face back toward him, wiping away the tears that have sprung to her eyes. “I need you to be honest. And while I’d prefer it to be for your own sake, I’d ask that at the very least, you’ll tell me for the sake of our child.”

Nathalie’s tears spill over once more, and she nods. “It’s not good. It could be worse, but I’m still in pain, and more than anything, I’m afraid the baby is too. I don’t know Gabriel; I really don’t. The only thing I  _ do _ know is that it’s entirely the doing of the miraculous.”

“You need Fu,” Gabriel says, pushing down the heavy lump that has formed in his throat. “I’ll get in contact with him one way or another. I won’t let you suffer like this.” He fusses over her, brushing her hair back and looking for something,  _ anything _ to fix. 

But the pillows are perfect, and the blankets pulled up to her chin. He’s entirely helpless to make any improvement, even a miniscule one.

Nathalie bites her lip and turns away again, pressing her hand to her stomach with a little whimper that barely squeaks out.

“Let it out,” he says, knowing that that small permission is the only thing he has to offer her.

She whines more fully, bringing her knees up and rolling to her side. It doesn’t seem to do much to help her. Gabriel reaches out to her, but his hand stops short.

There is nothing he can do alone. Nathalie’s best hope is for him to make contact with the Guardian.

“Give me your phone,” Gabriel instructs Adrien, unable to simply stand idly any longer. “Perhaps if it’s your own number, he’ll pick up.”

Adrien quickly hands over his phone, and he goes to Nathalie’s side to comfort her while Gabriel is preoccupied.

He selects Fu from the contact list and brings Adrien’s phone up to his ear. The phone begins to ring again. And it rings. And it rings. Nathalie moans behind him, and he hopes even more desperately that there will be an answer on the other end. However, after a few more rings, it becomes clear that even Adrien’s number is going to be ignored.

He hangs up, frustrated. “I’m not getting through to him that way,” he declares. “I’m not sure what else to do.”

“Try again later from Adrien’s phone,” Nathalie rasps, turning her head towards him. He can see sweat beading on her brow. “You may need to give it some time so he doesn’t suspect it’s you.”

“You deserve better than that,” Gabriel says, unable to stop himself from reaching for her again. “The cure will still take time that I’m afraid we won’t have. We need the Guardian to pull out all the stops now before this gets any worse.”

She lets out a yelp and curls tight around herself. Gabriel can see her shaking.

“Nathalie?” he exclaims, rushing to close the remaining distance between them. He brings his hand to her cheek, and instantly draws it back, stunned at the heat that had prickled his skin. He intakes a sharp breath. “Adrien,” he orders, “go run cold water into the bath.”

“What?” Adrien stammers. He is frozen in place, shoulders rising, but feet stuck.

“She’s burning up an unnatural amount. We need to cool her down.”

Adrien nods mechanically, feet still rooted to the ground.

“Now, Adrien! Go!”

Gabriel feels the weight of guilt rushing over him as Adrien startles out of his numb state and runs to the bathroom to follow his instructions, but there is no time to dwell on it, not when Nathalie has a frightening new symptom that they don’t know how to deal with. He throws the blankets off of her and brings his hand to her cheek again, trying not to be as shocked this time as the sensitive skin of his palm makes contact with a heat almost too much to bear.

“Are you with me?” he asks her, turning her head towards him. “Nathalie.”

Her eyes open, red, and rimmed with tears. “Yes. I’m sorry; it hurts.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “Is it just pain or—”

“I’m cold,” she gasps. “Put the blankets back on. Please.”

“I can’t. You have some kind of supercharged fever.”

Nathalie whimpers and pulls him close, trying to steal some warmth.

“I’m sorry,” he says, hating that he has to deny her and pry himself away. “It won’t be pleasant, but we need to get your temperature down. You’ll feel better after, I promise.”

“I trust you,” she says, still shivering. “Please, just make it quick.”

Adrien runs back in. “It’s starting to fill up.”

“Good. Help me.” Gabriel grabs Nathalie under the arms and Adrien hooks his arms under her knees. Together, they lift her and quickly bring her into the bathroom. They lay her gently in the tub, fully clothed.

She shrieks as she hits the cold water, clawing at Gabriel’s arm and begging to be taken out, but all he can do is murmur continuous apologies. Adrien helps him splash water over her head and shoulders, which are not submerged in the shallow water.

After a few minutes, Nathalie begins to calm down, her shivers less fevered. Once Gabriel sees the cloud of pain lift from her eyes, he brings his hand to her forehead, relieved to find it cool again.

He pops the drain and turns to Adrien. “Can you grab her some dry clothes? Something light so we can regulate her temperature easily.” Adrien gives a worried nod and goes off into the bedroom.

He returns with dry clothing as Gabriel has toweled off her upper half as well as possible. Her teeth are chattering now, but it’s now an expected chill, not the tense fever-driven shivers of before. “I’m going to sit you on the edge of the tub,” Gabriel tells her, sliding his hands under her arms. He lifts, and she moves with him, gingerly swinging her legs over once she’s seated.

“Nathalie?” Adrien whimpers, tears bubbling up in his eyes.

She reaches out a shivering hand to grab his. “I’ll be okay, Adrien. It’s okay.”

He swipes at his face, straightening up. He nods, jutting his lip out and trying not to cry.

“Her temperature is back to normal,” Gabriel says gently. “Why don’t you go wait in the bedroom while I get her into these new clothes?”

“Okay,” Adrien breathes, and turns out as quickly as he can.

Gabriel peels Nathalie’s wet sweater off of her and begins to towel her dry again. She lets out another shiver, but they’ve now subsided for the most part.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asks.

“I think so,” Gabriel says. “I hope so. I didn’t mean to be harsh—”

“He knows you were just scared,” she quickly tells him. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” She pauses as he hands the towel to her so she can dry the spots he cannot reach. “This is his first time seeing up close how sick I truly am. Not to mention that he already had to witness Victoire’s attack like that.”

Gabriel grinds his teeth. “I wish I had punched her harder.”

“What does it even matter at this point?” Nathalie asks, gripping the side of the tub.

He helps her remove her pants. “She deserves far worse than what she got for hurting you like this.”

She tuts softly. “I could care less about revenge, Gabriel. All I want at this point is to make sure our baby is healthy.”

“And I’ve failed at that, too,” he laments.

“No, you haven’t,” she insists. “Fu’s reluctance to communicate with you is not your fault, and even if it was, it doesn’t matter. He’ll give us the cure soon enough. I just need to be careful until then.”

He lifts her dry shirt to help her into it and pauses before preparing it. “That won’t do,” he realizes. “Not with new symptoms. You’ve never dealt with this before.”

“Not while conscious,” she counters. “For all we know, I had a fever the first time around too. We don’t know for sure.”

He goes silent, mind made up. He quickly helps Nathalie into her dry clothes, gives her hair a quick blow-dry so it isn’t dripping wet, and carries her back to bed.

Adrien is already sitting at the end of it again, bouncing his leg up and down in worry.

“Are you alright?” Gabriel asks him, and he jumps a bit.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” he cries. “I didn’t mean to freeze like that; I just—”

“Adrien,” he says and wraps his arms around him. “It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot today. You have my apologies for being so stern with you.”

“I get it. We were in a rush…” Adrien says, scratching the back of his neck ashamedly as they pull apart.

“You did well,” Gabriel says. “How are you feeling now? Are you still overwhelmed?”

“No. No, I just needed a minute. I think I’m fine now.”

“Excellent,” Gabriel says, walking to his closet. “Nathalie?”

“I’m still in a bit of pain,” she tells him, “but I think the worst of that attack is over.” He tries not to look at her as he turns back around, coat draped over his arm, but he can’t resist the intensity of her narrow stare. “Going somewhere, Gabriel?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, even as her glare threatens to break him. “I’m going to the Guardian’s. If he won’t answer the phone, I’ll get in touch with him another way.”

“Gabriel,” she groans. “Please rethink this.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but it’s the last straw,” he says, kissing her forehead. “Seeing you like that was too much. I need to make sure that we’re at least doing everything we can until a cure is ready.”

He can see disagreement still glittering in her eyes, but she relaxes back with quiet acceptance, nodding her head.

Gabriel turns to Adrien to make sure that he is okay with his decision as well.

“Don’t you think I should go instead?” Adrien asks. “Especially since we think he doesn’t want to talk to you?”

“That depends,” Gabriel says. “If he doesn’t budge, do you have it in you to be firm with him? To push him? To possibly even intimidate him?”

Adrien hesitates, which is an answer all on its own.

Gabriel softens. “Perhaps the more important question is whether you can forgive me if I do.”

“Of course I will,” Adrien jumps to say. “I may not be able to tell him off myself, but I don’t agree with how inaccessible Master Fu has made himself to you, and neither does Marinette. We’re on your side here! I just don’t know if I can be harsh with him myself,” he finishes, rubbing his arm unsurely.

“You don’t have to,” Gabriel assures him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I will deal with it. Do you feel comfortable caring for Nathalie while I’m gone?”

Adrien nods. “You’ll keep your phone on, right? In case something happens?”

“I will,” Gabriel confirms. He ducks into the bathroom quickly to grab a thermometer from the cabinet. “I’ll leave this here for you so you can check her temperature. I’ll ask that you do it frequently so you can avoid the necessity for another icy bath.”

“I second that request,” Nathalie jokes weakly.

“Did I think of everything?” Gabriel asks, hovering in the door. “Am I putting too much on you? Especially after—”

“It’s okay, Dad,” Adrien assures him. “I’ve gotten over the initial shock; I can handle it now. Nathalie and I will be fine.”

“Call me if anything changes,” he tells them. “I mean it. And keep your phones on you in case he has questions.”

“We will, Gabriel,” Nathalie promises. “If you’re going to go, go now. You don’t want to show up too late in the evening.”

“Okay,” he says, darting back in to leave parting kisses on each of their foreheads. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With that, he forces himself to leave their presence and descend to the foyer. There, he calls for the driver, waits for him to pull up, and steps outside.

The light is just beginning to fade from the sky as he pulls up to Fu’s. His heart is racing with nerves as he steps out of the car and up onto the sidewalk. Still, he marches himself forward, showing no outward hesitation as he approaches the front door and knocks.

For a moment, he worries his knock will go unanswered as well, but he then hears footsteps drawing nearer. The door unlocks and pulls open slightly, held by a chain as Fu peeks through the gap.

His moustache gives a displeased twitch and his eyes widen. “You can’t be here. You have no right to make an unauthorized calling to my home. Do you know how much is at risk—?”

“Do you?” Gabriel counters before the Guardian can even finish his question. For a moment, he almost argues that there is no real risk to Fu, not when the villains of Paris have retired, and certainly not when Marinette is in possession of the box, but the last thing he wants to do is get her in trouble for giving him information he should not have. “Right now, Nathalie is in immense pain,” he says, focusing on the issue at hand instead. “I have been trying to reach you on the phone for hours to no avail; you really can’t have expected that I would simply sit back and give up?”

“I had hoped you would take the hint.” He shakes his head, and to Gabriel’s surprise, unlatches the door fully. “We can’t have this argument out in the open. If you’re here, you might as well come in, though I can’t promise you’ll like my answer.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> Please just make sure to be polite to other readers.
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>   
Can Fu help her or not?


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel goes to Fu and demands a cure.

🦋

This time, there are no pleasantries exchanged between Gabriel and the Guardian as Gabriel enters the front room and waits. Instead, a terse silence settles over them, revealing the true extent of their underlying dislike for one another.

“Why have you come?” the Guardian asks, pointedly not looking at Gabriel as he brings a stack of books across the room and begins to reshelve them. It looks like busy work to Gabriel, something to keep the Guardian occupied so he won’t have to acknowledge the frustration and fear burning in Gabriel’s eyes. “I denied your calls for good reason. It’s incredibly irresponsible to show up here simply because you did not get your way.”

“I’ve come because Nathalie has relapsed again,” Gabriel grits out. “She needs some kind of treatment, or even better—”

“I told you already that I cannot repress her symptoms again,” the Guardian says sharply. He finishes his task, but still doesn’t turn to face him. “If you’ve allowed her to relapse again, then there’s nothing I can do. You’ll simply have to hope that she can hold on until a cure can be delivered.”

Gabriel’s anger threatens to rise. “I didn’t simply  _ allow  _ her to relapse. Why do you fail time and time again to realize that not every set of circumstances is within my control?”

“I can only make my assumptions based on what I know,” he bites back, finally turning around. He looks at him with intensity, but also stillness. “You’ve been careless in the past, and she paid the price before. But regardless of fault, my previous statement still stands. I cannot restabilize her.”

“How can you be so aloof about this?” Gabriel exclaims, unable to stop himself from losing his cool. “You don’t like me; fine. It is no matter. But  _ she  _ has done nothing to deserve—”

“She made the choice to pick up the broken miraculous in the first place. She has terrorized the citizens of Paris,” Fu snaps back. “She has fought against children. They may have forgotten, naïve and optimistic as they are, but I haven’t.”

“Our baby then,” Gabriel retorts. “Are you really going to punish an innocent child for the sins of its parents?” He shifts his jaw, another thought irking him. “And speaking of children — I’m sure it was an easy choice, wasn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” the Guardian asks warily, finally thrown off his rhythm by Gabriel’s pointed question.

“Picking heroes.” Master Fu goes stiff. “Adults are so complicated. We’re fully formed people with pasts, histories, mistakes… There’s no true Scotsman, is there?” he asks, circling around Fu. “No true hero among  _ us. _ Children are easier. They’re idealists at heart. They haven’t had the time to make mistakes yet. They’re still perfect.

“Of course, once they’re forced into such a demanding role, they’re no longer as pure as before, but I suppose at that point,  _ you  _ can’t be blamed, can you?”

“What is your point?” Fu demands.

“My point is that while I may have made it a necessity to pick heroes in the first place, I didn’t choose to place that burden on children,” he says, rooting himself in front of Fu. “You are responsible for that decision, not me, and certainly not Nathalie.”

Gabriel watches as Fu’s fingers furl. He can see the Guardian searching for an argument, but coming up empty.

He should feel satisfied at that, but it only makes him anxious.

Fu huffs and meanders away from him. “I have plenty more reasons to be wary of you,” he mutters, dodging the accusation at hand. As frustrating as it is, Gabriel feels a tiny ray of hope peek through. If the Guardian can be rattled, then he can be moved as well.

“The feeling is mutual,” Gabriel assures him. But for now, I’m asking you to put that aside and help a woman who is in a lot of pain, as well as an unborn child in danger.”

The Guardian glares back at him, appearing as if he’s going to argue, but the serious worry and determination in Gabriel’s expression must subdue him. He sighs. “I meant what I said about not being able to repress the progression of the damage a second time. However, I may be able to do something to help ease her pain in the meantime, until the cure can be administered. Follow me.” He opens the doors to his back room and ushers Gabriel in.

Immediately, something collides into Gabriel’s chest, and he winces, feeling as it hits the small bruise Lila Rossi had left earlier that day.

“Mister Gabriel!” The source of the collision turns out to be Duusu, who greets him with a beaming smile and bright eyes. “I’m so glad you came to visit! Did you bring Miss Nathalie with you?”

“I’m afraid not,” he says, trying not to deeply upset the fragile creature. “She’s unfortunately not doing very well right now.”

But he is quickly reminded that Duusu’s mental state is much more solid now that she has been healed. “Oh no,” Duusu says, drooping a bit, but not bursting into the tears that he has come to expect from her. “Poor Miss Nathalie; she’s been through so much.”

“She has,” Gabriel agrees.

“Maybe we can see each other when she’s better!” the kwami suggests.

“I don’t see why not,” Gabriel says.

“Out of the question,” Fu insists at the same time.

She looks back and forth between them, mouth rounded into a little ‘oh.’ “We’ll see?” she asks hopefully.

Fu merely shakes his head and pushes past them.

Gabriel leans in conspiratorially. “I’ll see what I can do. Especially once you go to the box with the others.”

“With Marinette?” she asks, just a tad too loudly for his liking, but thankfully, the Guardian just leans further over his scrolls, not noticing their conversation.

He nods. “I anticipate her being more willing to arrange a visit.”

“Mister Agreste,” the Guardian calls, bringing him over. “I’d like to speak with her over a video call. It would be best if she can describe to me her pain levels and I can see her appearance for myself.”

“Of course,” Gabriel agrees, relieved that the Guardian has taken on a more helpful approach. He pulls out his phone and starts a video chat, hoping that Nathalie is in a decent enough condition to accept it.

The call starts, and he is relieved to see that it is her face in frame, even with red rimmed eyes and tousled hair. Immediately, he notes that her eyes dart around, taking in the background behind him. “He let you in.”

“He did,” he confirms, and she gifts him with a relieved sigh. “How are you, dear?”

“Managing,” she says. “I haven’t had another major attack, not like the first. My temperature is up and down, but Adrien is helping me manage it.” She begins to cough into her elbow, and Gabriel leans in, concerned. She pulls back, revealing specks of red flecked on the sleeve of her shirt. She doesn’t try to hide it from him, instead holding it up to the lens with a dissatisfied sigh. “This issue has reemerged,” she rasps tiredly.

“How bad?”

“It… could be worse,” she says. The ‘it could be better’ remains unspoken.

He nods, his concern worming around inside him, but settled slightly by the knowledge that the coughing is not as bad as it has been in the past. “The Guardian wants to ask you about your symptoms if you’re up to it, dear.”

She nods back at him. “Hand me over.”

Gabriel gives his phone to the Guardian. Perhaps it’s because he is under Gabriel’s watchful eye, but he is gentler with Nathalie, keeping judgment to the minimum as he questions her about how her symptoms have progressed. She walks him through her nausea, dizziness, pain, and lung issues in detail. Gabriel chimes in to add his own perspective when she begins to describe her fever, and when she shows the bruises from her scuffle with Victoire, he can’t help himself from looking over the Guardian’s shoulder to make sure they aren’t worse than before.

“The fever is my biggest concern at the moment,” the Guardian finally says after each symptom has been picked over. “If my research and prior knowledge is correct, it’s a sign that the broken magic is destabilizing and spreading throughout the body, causing damage.”

“What does that mean?” Gabriel asks fearfully.

“Is this hurting the baby?” Nathalie demands.

The Guardian looks off to the side. “I won’t lie to you; it is likely that they feel some pain.” Nathalie stifles a teary gasp. “However, there would be no  _ lasting  _ harm with the symptoms you currently describe, as long as we make sure that this doesn’t progress even further before tomorrow.”

“What happens tomorrow?”

The Guardian looks away again, off towards his notes, wearing a conflicted expression. He purses his lips, seemingly makes a decision, and nods. “I don’t want to get any hopes up in case I’m wrong. But Ladybug was here to assist me this morning, and together, we had a major breakthrough. I’m already very close to finishing my calculations. If all of my work is correct, it shouldn’t take me more than the rest of tonight to finish double checking the math and preparing my ingredients.”

Gabriel is almost afraid to ask. “Do you mean…?”

“If all goes well, I can heal her tomorrow,” the Guardian confirms. “For good.”

A relieved laugh bubbles out of Nathalie, and Gabriel himself is grinning from ear to ear until she hunches over and begins to cough harshly. “Dear?”

Adrien’s hand enters the frame for a moment to rub her back. Gabriel stands in strained stillness, waiting hopelessly for the fit to subside.

“I’m okay,” she rasps. “Tomorrow is so close. We can do it. Gabriel.”

Gabriel breathes her words in deep, allowing them to give him strength.

“Get as much rest as you can,” the Guardian instructs. “Go to sleep now, if you are able to. The more you can conserve your energy, the better off you will be. I will discuss with your partner what he can do to make sure your condition doesn’t worsen before the morning.”

“Wait!” Duusu squeals, flapping her arms wildly. “I want to say hi!”

“Duusu?” Nathalie asks, perking up at the sound of her voice. “Is that you?”

She flits into frame before the Guardian can protest. “Hi, Miss Nathalie!”

Nathalie goes misty eyed. “Oh, Duusu. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. I’m missing you every day.”

“Don’t apologize, Miss Nathalie; I had fun with you!” the kwami insists. “I only wish that my miraculous hadn’t been hurting you all this time. I never even knew.” She perks up a bit. “But don’t worry. Master Fu has been working really hard on a cure for you. You’re going to be all better soon!”

“I know,” she says with a soft smile. “Very soon.”

“Oh,” Duusu sighs sweetly. “I am  _ so  _ excited for the baby. Ooh!” she exclaims, doing a spiral in the air. “Let me see! Please!”

“See what?” she asks, laughing just a little. She looks tired and weighed down, but the joy in her eyes is genuine. “My bump?”

“Yes!”

“Duusu,” she chides, cheeks growing slightly pink. With a sigh, she angles the phone down to catch view of her rounded belly.

“So — so  _ cute,”  _ she exclaims, barely containing her excitement as she does a little wiggle in the air. “I can’t believe that was right under my nose and I didn’t even notice. Well, if I had a nose,” she says, tapping the flat space under her eyes.

A little wrinkle forms on Nathalie’s brow as she pulls the camera back up, even as she maintains a smile. “In all fairness, my goal was to hide it from everyone. Including you.”

“Duusu,” Gabriel interrupts. “As thrilled as Nathalie is to see you, this has been a very trying day. As the Guardian said, she needs her rest.”

“Oh, you’re right,” the kwami agrees. “Bye, Miss Nathalie! See you soon!”

“Bye, Duusu,” she says, blowing a kiss. She shifts her attention back to Gabriel. “Bye, my love. Text Adrien when you’re on your way home.”

“Of course,” he promises before ending the call.

After Gabriel has returned his phone to his pocket, the Guardian leads him to the desk, where he pulls out a lower drawer and begins to sort through various powders and bottles. He spoons out two small plastic bags of powder — one, a peachy pink, and the other, soft orange.

He holds up the pink bag first. “This one is a paste for if the pain becomes unbearable. It will be particularly useful on the chest, for the coughing, but you can use it to treat any area where she is experiencing pain. Mix it with two parts water and apply topically.” He then holds up the bag of orange powder, slightly bigger and fuller than the first. “This is the most important one. This is tea for if her fever spikes to an unnatural level again. Brew this and serve it to her hot. You may be tempted to give her ice baths, but it’s only through luck that the first one worked. It could actually make the fever worse, and if that happens, there could be permanent damage to her and to the baby.”

Gabriel nods, taking them both. “I understand.”

“She will need to be closely monitored through the night,” the Guardian presses. “At the first sign of fever, give her a cup. There are at least fifteen servings, which should get you through the night and more.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel says emphatically. For all the trouble that the Guardian has caused, he is eternally grateful for the assistance now. “What should we expect tomorrow?”

“I will come in the morning to heal her,” the Guardian says. “What time will you be ready for me?”

“As soon as possible,” Gabriel says. “It’s unlikely I’ll sleep at all tonight.”

The Guardian gives him a rare smirk of amusement. “That may be so, but I don’t trust myself to execute this properly on low sleep. I’ll arrive at eight.”

Gabriel nods. “Thank you. Truly. I know you have your doubts about me, but this is the right thing to do. My family is grateful for it.”

“Mister Agreste, you are the last person I would take moral reassurance from,” he responds, but his voice lacks the bite it had earlier. “That being said, I take my duty seriously. It would be foolish to let two people die when it is in my power to make it right.”

Gabriel nods. “I won’t let it go to waste. I intend to follow your instructions carefully. I won’t take my eyes off her tonight.”

It’s only twelve hours, he realizes, glancing at his watch. Half a day before the worst of their troubles are finally over.

“It’ll be okay,” Duusu whispers conspiratorially on his way out. “Miss Nathalie is strong, and she’s in good hands. I’m sure we’ll all be reunited soon, Mister Gabriel.”

He musters up a smile, encouraged by the promise of a cure and the new medicine he has for the night. “I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
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Will they?


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning doesn't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I hope you are enjoying yourselves.
> 
> I'd like to spread the word and let you guys know that I am signed up to participate in the GabeNath Reverse Bang alongside ReminiscentLullaby as a team. This is going to be a very fun challenge, and I encourage you to check it out! All the information can be found at https://gabenathreversebang.tumblr.com

The final night is long and quiet, leaving Gabriel alone with his thoughts for hours.

He doesn’t sleep. There is too much at risk, and he is not going to allow himself to slip up in the last moments that count. Although it has been years since he has pulled a full all-nighter, his wired nerves make it all too easy to stay awake. Sleep doesn’t pressure him, but solitude does.

Adrien, of course, had wanted to stay awake to help, but after the horrible day they had just had, Gabriel can’t allow it.

“After all we went through today? You need your sleep,” he says. After Adrien shoots him pleading eyes, he promises, “I will retrieve you if anything goes wrong.”

But Adrien is not needed that night. Almost immediately after coming home, Gabriel mixes the Guardian’s pink paste and applies it to Nathalie’s chest, stomach, and back. The relief is instantaneous, and even with how much Nathalie tends to hide her pain, Gabriel is able to see the tension melt out of her only minutes after the application.

The night is peaceful after that, as much as Gabriel yearns for company to distract him from his tension. Nathalie falls asleep very quickly, luckily getting the rest that she so desperately needs, and Gabriel monitors her temperature obsessively through the night.

It only spikes a handful of times, and he brews the tea quickly enough that it doesn’t rise nearly to the extreme levels that it had early in the day. He gently wakes her each time and helps her drink, knowing she’ll need the aid as he takes note of her glassy eyes and limp hands, too burdened with exhaustion to work for themselves. He doubts she will even remember in the morning, especially since she doesn’t even grimace at the bitter flavor of the tea in her half-conscious state.

The hours drag on, but Gabriel is grateful for the lack of crises. As uneasy and impatient as he is, he’ll happily take the long stretches of uneventfulness over another disaster. Nathalie coughs throughout the night, but it is less severe than earlier in the day, and her slumber remains unbroken. All in all, the night goes as well as he could expect. 

It’s the morning that brings trouble.

Nathalie wakes early, immediately grimacing in discomfort as she comes back into consciousness. By time Gabriel wipes old flakes of pink off her skin and mixes a new batch of the salve, she is writhing in pain, much as she had been in the previous afternoon. When he finally applies the new mixture, it helps some, but the relief is not as great as it had been through the night.

“Go back to sleep,” he encourages softly, stroking her hair to entice her back into unconsciousness. It is a lost cause, however. Aside from her constant discomfort, he thinks that much like himself, she is too worked up in anticipation of the Guardian’s arrival to put her thoughts away again, even if the pain could ebb.

Once Adrien comes in, the restless energy of the room only increases, multiplied and shared between each of its members. The three of them are deadly silent as they wait. Though they’ve all grown more communicative in the past few months, the anticipation is stifling, gluing their tongues and locking their limbs.

It doesn’t take long for Nathalie to have her first fever of the morning, and at that point, they finally jump into action with Adrien brewing the tea while Gabriel watches over Nathalie and comforts her. It is a hotter fever than during the night, and the tea takes longer to go into effect. Gabriel is grateful that there isn’t much longer to wait, recognizing that the medicine Fu has given him can only do so much and is losing its effectiveness as they go longer without a cure. Before the Guardian is due to arrive, Nathalie has an additional four spikes of fever, and the tea seems to do less for her every time.

The final minutes until eight o’clock seem to stretch on forever. Adrien relocates himself to look out the window, and Gabriel himself keeps checking his watch. Finally, the clock turns.

Gabriel looks up at Adrien. “Anything?”

Adrien pulls aside the curtains and looks out at the front yard, frowning. “Not yet.”

Gabriel clenches his fists, but he tries to curtail his temper and show patience. “Perhaps there is traffic.”

“He doesn’t drive,” Adrien says softly, worrying the fabric of the curtain between his fingers.

Nathalie shoots Gabriel a perturbed glace, and he takes her hand. “Then the Métro could be delayed,” he tries to assure them both, although he is harboring distressed feelings of his own. “I’m sure he won’t keep us much longer. Let’s not work ourselves up before it’s even been ten minutes.”

Ten minutes comes all too soon though, and with it, another high fever. Gabriel is preoccupied in preparing Nathalie’s tea for her, quickly followed by a second batch when the first barely cools her. By the time her temperature has been returned to normal, ten minutes has turned to twenty. Twenty soon turns to thirty. Gabriel’s patience runs dry, and he wordlessly holds out his hand to Adrien.

The Guardian’s number is already pulled up on Adrien’s phone, and Gabriel’s heart pangs as he realizes his son had already prepared for the Guardian to let them down. He tries not to let his emotion distract him from his task, brushing it aside to make his call.

Just as it had yesterday, the phone rings and rings without a response, never even reaching a voicemail. After waiting for half a minute with no answer, Gabriel hangs up with a frustrated growl in the back of his throat. He drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Dad?” Adrien asks unsurely. “He’s… not picking up?”

Gabriel raises his eyes, but is unable to meet Adrien’s, instead focusing on the window behind him. “Get me my own phone,” he says, gesturing towards where it rests on top of his chest of drawers, underneath the withered petals of an aging bouquet of flowers, neglected after the horrors of the previous day. “I have his home phone number now.”

He calls the given number, heart sinking at each unanswered ring. There is finally a click, and his heart jumps in his chest with euphoric levels of hope before the recorded message dashes his optimism to pieces. “This is Wang Fu. I’m not available right now, but I will respond to your message at the earliest convenience.”

“ _ Merde,”  _ he mutters in the gap between the message and the tone. “Fu, it’s Gabriel Agreste. We are all waiting here for you,” he says, trying to manage the sharpness in his tone. “Perhaps there was a misunderstanding. Will you be with us shortly? I was under the impression we would begin at eight,” he finishes vaguely, just in case any customers are present in the shop. “Call me back.”

He hangs up the phone once more and is met by somber silence. No one dares to speak a word, instead checking clocks and watches and windows with sealed lips. The quiet remains for several minutes, only broken by a rough coughing fit by Nathalie.

“Dear?” Gabriel asks. Her only response is to gesture for a tissue, which she quickly directs her coughing into once he hands it to her. When she comes back up, the tissue is red.

Gabriel draws in a sharp breath. It isn’t as if any of the medicine promises to stop the symptoms, only to ease them, but it is alarming to see how severely they’ve worsened since the first dose. He reaches out his hand to Nathalie’s forehead and finds that she is already warm again.

He doesn’t wait this time to brew two batches of tea, instead starting right off with a double serving. Nathalie doesn’t seem at all surprised when he brings it upstairs in an oversized mug, but Adrien stares at him with a look of wounded shock as he realizes he has jumped directly to a double dose. Gabriel throws an arm across his son’s shoulders and pulls him in comfortingly. “I know,” he says. 

The tea reduces the fever, but it no longer helps with much else. Although Nathalie’s forehead is cool once more, the coughing continues, and more tissues are spotted with blood. For all that Gabriel tries to make her comfortable, Nathalie is soon whimpering with pain again, breathing heavily and curling in on herself.

“Hold on, my dear,” Gabriel says, reaching for the paste mixture. He frowns at the meager bit of powder left, worrying even more about his dwindling servings of tea. He squares his jaw, mixing and applying the bit of salve that is left while calculating the remaining batches of tea in his head.

It’s far too little, especially with how frequently Nathalie’s fever is spiking now. At the rate they are going at, they will be lucky for the tea to last them much more than an hour, and the paste mixture is now completely gone. Fu is over an hour late, and there’s no time left to delay.

Adrien seems to already know what Gabriel has to say as he meets his eye. “Let me call again first,” he says.

“I’ll call the house phone,” Gabriel volunteers. Together, they dial, bringing the phones to their ears in a mirrored, worried gesture.

Gabriel’s concern grows as Adrien’s eyes go wide after only seconds and he lowers his phone. Still, he waits for his own call to click to voicemail once more before following suit.

“What is it?” Gabriel asks, noting how Adrien already moves to call the Guardian a second time.

“Listen,” Adrien says, shoving his phone up to Gabriel’s ear.

This time, the phone doesn’t ring. It jumps right to a robotic voice saying, “ We are sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”

Gabriel’s blood runs cold. “Why would he deactivate his number?” he demands, but nobody has answers for him. “Why?” He stares at his phone, wishing for this new misfortune to be a poorly timed prank.

“Something is wrong,” Adrien says.

“Do you thin k he betrayed us? ” Nathalie suggests, wiping sweat from her creased brow.

“I don’t know what to think,” Gabriel answers truthfully, moving over to help her with a fresh tissue. “I saw no indication of it yesterday.” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure what I should do.”

“You need to go back,” Adrien says. “If his cell phone is disconnected, he won’t be answering the landline either. You need to go catch him if he’s having second thoughts!”

“Will you be okay on your own again?” Gabriel frets. “The symptoms are getting unpredictable.”

“They’re only going to get worse if we wait, Gabriel,” Nathalie points out. “Adrien can handle it for now, and I’m not so bad as I was yesterday, but I don’t know how long that will last. You were right. I need the Guardian before this gets worse.” Her head droops to the side as she speaks, fully betraying her exhaustion. It alarms Gabriel to see the pain and tiredness written so clearly on her features.

“Go,” Adrien urges. “I’m calling Marinette to serve as backup; I’ll have you meet her at his apartment, just in case Ladybug is needed as some extra persuasion for him.”

Gabriel resists the urge to defend the fact that he can handle an old man by himself, reminding himself that the company and support would be appreciated. “Thank you,” he says.

He kisses Nathalie on the forehead, hating that he has to leave her again in her troubled state. Still, he knows it must be done. “Love you,” is all he takes precious time to say to them both before swiftly exiting down to the front door.

The driver pulls around quickly after he is called for, and Gabriel hurries in, hoping for a quick, uneventful ride with low traffic.

It doesn’t take all too long to arrive, but those few minutes seem to tick on forever. Gabriel practically leaps out of the car when it pulls up to the curb, only to grind to a halt a moment later. Even though Marinette lives closer to the Guardian than he does, he doesn’t see her outside the apartment. He wonders whether he should wait for her to arrive, should he need backup in order to get Fu to cooperate.

He sighs, resigning himself to wait on the front step, but it’s only a few seconds before the door to the apartment creaks open behind him.

He whirls around, expecting to see the Guardian sheepishly emerging late, but instead, it’s Ladybug, slinking out through the door with a cautious glance to the now empty street and closing it behind her.

She doesn’t look like Ladybug, however, even though she is currently wearing the spots; though Gabriel has known her identity for months at this point, never has he seen Marinette’s civilian identity so present in the hero, or rather, Marinette’s meek side, which only comes out at times of most uncertainty.

Something is amiss.

“Mister Agreste,” she starts hesitantly.

He isn’t capable of waiting for her to dance around the topic. “What’s wrong?”

“Before you go in, you should know… It’s — well. I mean—”

It becomes clear that he’ll be waiting all day for an answer, and he can’t bring himself to do so. Not when his instincts are clawing at him to jump to action. He pushes past her and reaches for the doorknob himself.

“Wait!” she cries, but he pays her no mind, making his way into the apartment.

He stops in his tracks, hardly believing that he is standing in the same room that he was in only yesterday. The shelves, previously filled with books, are now half empty, novels and encyclopedias seemingly torn from their places at random. He nearly trips as he numbly drifts forward, and he looks down to find that he has stumbled over a broken chair, which appears to have been thrown across the room.

The picture he has stepped into becomes clearer. Scrolls hang askew. Furniture is tipped over. There’s a hole punched through the door between the two rooms.

This is the scene of a struggle.

He turns back to Ladybug, who is reluctant to meet his eyes. “What happened here?” he demands, realizing too late that he sounds unkind.

Her eyes brim up with tears as they skirt away from him. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But Master Fu is gone.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
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> Please just make sure to be polite to other readers.
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> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta)
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This is most definitely a new problem. What happens now?


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel struggles to come to terms with the Guardian's disappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I hope you're enjoying yourselves. I'd like to promote the GabeNath Reverse Bang again before we begin, which I will be participating in, in a team with Reminiscent Lullaby. More info here: https://gabenathreversebang.tumblr.com

Gabriel refuses to believe the Guardian is gone. As much as all logic points to the same conclusion, he simply can’t accept it, not even at Ladybug’s word.

As if he hasn’t heard her at all — and perhaps he hasn’t, really — he pushes open the battered door between rooms and makes his way inside.

The scene here is even worse. The privacy screen is torn and twisted, thrown onto its side in the corner of the room. The beautiful old gramophone, which had rested on the Guardian’s desk before, has been bashed to pieces, scattered across the floor. It seems not a single item is untouched; furniture has been tipped, wall hangings have been pulled down, and even the parlor’s window has been shattered.

As he looks at each destroyed object, pieces of his hope are obliterated just the same. The bright and shiny future he thought he had only several hours ago is now as tattered and torn as the place he stands in, desecrated beyond instant recognition.

“No,” he says, even though the evidence is clear. “It’s a misunderstanding. He must have left in a hurry. He — he was running late and he —”

It isn’t until there’s a firm grip on his arm that he realizes he is swaying on his feet.

“Mister Agreste, you should sit down.”

“I should call Adrien. The Guardian must be there now.”

Ladybug’s breath catches and she shakes her head. He can’t imagine why she looks so sad. “He isn’t.”

“Then it’s a trick,” he says, pushing through the sudden dryness in his throat. He brushes Ladybug aside. “He’s agreed to help us, but he still can’t stand me. This must be his idea of a joke.” He staggers over to the privacy screen and lifts it. His heart thrums in his chest as he takes in the blank space underneath, no sign of Fu.

“Mister Agreste—” Her voice is wobblier this time and his lip twitches in annoyance. Can’t she see that the Guardian is hiding from them?

“He’s here somewhere,” he says. He walks over to the window, firmer on his feet now, paying no mind to the crunch of glass under his feet. “Guardian!” he calls into the street.

Hands are wrapped around his arm again, pulling him back. “Mister—”

“What?” he snaps, and Ladybug flinches back. “Can’t you see I’m trying to find him? Nathalie gets healed today. This is her last chance. Her last —” he cuts off, his own voice choking him for reasons he can’t comprehend. Ladybug only stares with watery eyes, which he wishes she would turn somewhere else. He shakes his head and pulls himself away from her. “If he’s gone away, he must have left the cure for us.”

With a grunt, he pushes the heavy desk upright again, though it totters unevenly with a broken leg. He scans the ground around him for any sign of the Guardian’s papers, but finding nothing, he begins to open drawers.

The first one is empty. So is the second. And the third. And every drawer that follows. He reaches the drawer that had held the mix of powders and medicines, and he fills with icy dread.

All that is left is a torn plastic bag, the contents long gone.

His heart rate picks up, and he goes through the remaining drawers more frantically. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. He is at the verge of tears as he yanks the final drawer open.

There is nothing inside.

A choked sound works his way out of him, halfway between a sob and a scream. He stares numbly at the open drawer for a second before ripping it out and flinging it across the room. He begins to do the same for the others, unable to believe that they are truly empty.

“Stop!” Ladybug yells at him. “That doesn’t help!”

He knows she is right, but he doesn’t care. In seconds, his cool determination has turned to rage, and the splintering of old wood against the wall has an addictive quality. When he has run out of drawers, he throws the desk back onto its side, watching as it splits open.

It should fill him with satisfaction, but he feels just as hollow as its bashed-in frame.

He stumbles away, looking for anything he can take his aggression out on. He kicks the privacy screen, breaking it fully. He soon finds himself at the small bookshelf in the corner, the only piece of furniture that hasn’t been overturned, and he takes a book from its shelves. He winds up his arm to throw, only for Ladybug to take the book from his hand.

He painfully drives his empty fist into the wall in anger, and all at once, all his energy leaves him. He feels lightheaded, as if he might faint, and his other hand goes out to steady himself.

Ladybug’s hands meet his arm one more time, ever patient and far more gentle than he deserves. His breath runs away from him, and he is suddenly overwhelmed by fear and grief. He is scared for Nathalie and the baby, and what may become of them. He is scared for Adrien, who will have another burden on his shoulders. He is scared for himself, but also  _ of  _ himself after the violent outburst that he has just engaged in.

“Sit,” Ladybug orders. His legs are jelly under him, but his knees are locked. It isn’t until Ladybug presses gently down on his shoulders that he is able to collapse onto the ground, his back to the bookcase.

He feels as if he is crying, but there are no tears, only frantic air that rushes in and out of him before it can deliver any oxygen to his lungs. His chest is screaming, and he’s not sure whether it’s from desperation or his poor breathing pattern.

“Slow,” Ladybug instructs, swimming into his field of vision. “Deep breaths, Mister Agreste. You can’t help her like this.”

She stays in front of him, showing him a slower pattern of breath that he finds impossible to mimic at first. But as he sits on solid ground, he is finally able to bring himself back to a more reasonable tempo. His sight stops blurring, the fire in his chest recedes, and his mind begins to clear.

Once he’s mostly returned to his senses, a great deal of shame envelops him, especially as the young heroine looks at him with such care and concern. “I behaved abhorrently just now,” he says, unable to keep the unsettled waver from his tone.

“No,” she assures him.

“I did. That was uncalled for, and I’m certain it was frightening. I’m terribly sorry.”

She shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have intervened at first. You needed to get it out. I never felt unsafe, only worried for  _ you.” _

He curls in on himself, miserable for a multitude of reasons, but guilty on top of it all. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’re here that you’ve offered me far more kindness than I have earned.”

She seats herself quietly beside him, looking out at the wide array of damage and destruction, some of which is at his own hand. It seems that Ladybug pays no mind, however, as he can feel her eyes settle heavily on him instead.

“You’ve earned  _ kindness, _ Mister Agreste. We crossed that bridge long ago.”

He looks down, not quite believing her.

“Do you remember when Master Fu healed you after your run as Panoptes?”

His eyes skirt across the room, finding the very spot he had lain in. “You stood by me then, too, though I still can’t comprehend why you chose to pity your longtime nemesis.”

“I told you at the time that you didn’t deserve to know the answer,” she says, and he looks sharply at her in surprise. “I said you would have to earn it, and you long since have.”

His feelings of unworthiness and his curiosity battle with one another, curiosity winning. “Why then?”

“Your motivation for your actions. We’d never really considered it before that Papillon could have a noble cause. Not with all the suffering—”

“It’s no excuse,” he exclaims, suddenly very angry with himself. “Those were lies that I fed myself to justify my wrongdoings. I was still a villain.”

_ “Listen  _ to me,” she presses. “I’m not finished. Of course it didn’t excuse your actions. But I saw the potential there, Mister Agreste. You were willing to give it all up so quickly for the sake of your loved ones. And then you jumped in front of that akuma for Adrien and—” She shrugs. “I saw what could be. It seemed pointless to punish you when you were already on the path to bettering yourself.”

“It wasn’t the last time I hurt him.”

“It wasn’t the last time I hurt him, either,” Ladybug insists. “Making mistakes is part of being human. It’s what we learn from them that makes us who we are.” She offers him a comforting smile. “You have come a long way. You’ve done so much to bring healing and peace to your family.”

“Is that not a selfish desire?” he asks, tilting his head back against the bookshelf. Exhaustion is catching up to him now, heavying his bones. He sighs. “I’m no hero, Marinette.”

“That’s not what I see,” she says. “I knew there was goodness in you, but you surprised even me with how much.” She levels him with a determined stare. “You are a protector. It’s intrinsic to your nature. I think you know you can’t fight it anymore.”

He looks down. “Then I have failed at even my nature. Look around you,” he says, gesturing to the room. “All this damage, and that’s not all. We know what this means. Nathalie—” He stops, unable to voice what this means for his beloved partner.

“We’ll figure something out. I remember pieces of what needs to be done. Maybe I can put together a cure myself,” she says, but she can’t hide her uncertainty. “And this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have stopped this!”

“Is it not?” he demands. “I was here only yesterday, after he ignored my calls. You can’t tell me that has no relevance to what has happened here.”

“So was I,” she argues. “It could have been either of us.”

“You’ve been here dozens of times. I’m the variable in this situation. This is my doing.”

“You don’t know that. Even if it’s true, he left you with no choice,” she says. “Chat and I both told him that he needed to be more accessible to you while Nathalie was still at risk. If he wasn’t picking up, he left you with no other option!”

It had certainly felt that way, but from where he is now, Gabriel can’t help but try to pick apart the logic of it all. Surely there must have been something else he could have done differently, but he can’t think of what.

“Forgive yourself,” Ladybug tells him. “We can’t move forward if you’re stuck trying to solve the past.”

There’s truth to her words, he must admit. It is time to look ahead, if not for himself, then at least for the sake of his family. He swallows his emotions down, looking about the space.

“We’re in agreement, then, about what has happened here?” he asks. “Someone attacked him.”

Ladybug breathes out heavily. “Yeah.”

Gabriel is quiet, thinking through the problem. “Did he have any enemies?” Ladybug’s lip twitches. He sighs. “Any enemies other than  _ me?” _

She shakes her head. “Not that I know of. Though I can’t imagine who else could have known he was the Guardian.” She frowns thoughtfully. “If they did, they might have been looking for something.”

A fresh bolt of fear strikes through him. “The Miracle Box!”

“No, no,” she reassures him. “Thankfully, I still had it as part of my training. The miraculous are safe. But—oh.” Her eyes widen.  _ “Merde.” _

“What?”

“The Peacock. It was still here. He was going to give it to me after the cure.”

His heart skips another beat. “Did he need it to heal her?”

“No. He wasn’t sure at first, but we figured it out yesterday.” He feels a slight bit of relief, but his heart sinks for Duusu all the same. “And he had the Turtle, as its holder.”

“So once again, two miraculous are unaccounted for,” he says.

She nods and exhales a heavy breath.  _ “Putain.” _

_ “Putain,”  _ he agrees.

“I could throw something myself about now,” she says.

Gabriel gestures to the books at their back, and with a wry, halfhearted smile, she removes one from the shelf, checking quickly to make sure it isn’t important, and throws it with a little huff. It hits the wall with a dull thud. She sighs.

“Your turn,” she grunts.

He doesn’t really have it in him anymore, but he reaches for a book to please her. He moves to pull it, but it sticks.

He turns to get a better look, finding it odd, since the book isn’t wedged between any others. It’s a larger volume, however, and it seems to be stuck between the shelves. He tugs at it harder, and the edge of the shelf digs into his back.

His heart skips a beat.

“Move,” he tells her.

She gives an indignant, “Huh?” but obliges nonetheless, scrambling aside.

Gabriel walks back on his knees and pulls on the book again. The case hinges out slightly, enough for him to wrap his fingers around it and pull.

“It’s a hidden safe!” he exclaims as the door swings open. The secret compartment is filled with books, scrolls, various unknown artifacts, and manila folders with notes.

“Whoa,” Ladybug breathes, dipping her head in just enough to see. She gives Gabriel enough space to quickly comb through, to see if he can find the most important thing that he is looking for.

The safe isn’t well organized, and there are several stacks of folders that he takes in, reading the label on the top folder of each pile. There is a folder dedicated to power-ups, which he is sure Ladybug will be interested to have, one to translations, and several on the history of the Order of Guardians, but he can’t find the very important file that he is looking for.

He moves aside a loose piece of paper on top of another stack, and looks at what he has revealed with a jolt.

There it is, neatly labeled and laid out for them: “Adapted cure for Nathalie Sancœur.”

He lets out a sob, grabbing the folder and the paper that had rested on top.

“Mister Agreste?” Ladybug asks, alarmed, and he simply shoves the file into her open arms.

She lets out a breathy laugh as she realizes what she is holding. “Oh, thank god.”

“Is it all there?” he manages to ask.

She looks at the top paper quickly, and then flips through the rest of the pages. Her eyes widen.

“Well?”

“We’re very lucky,” she says. “All of our combined notes are here, every single sheet.” She holds up the top sheet for him, saying, “His completed notes from last night, too.” Her eyes skim the rest of the cabinet. “I think we even have all the ingredients, except for a few household items. We have everything we need.”

His arms and legs can no longer support him. He drops to the ground in gratitude.

“And it’s enough?” he finally asks, mustering up the strength to do so. “I mean you can—”

At that moment, his phone begins to ring. He pulls himself off the ground and quickly finds that Adrien is calling.

“That can’t be good,” Ladybug mutters as she catches sight of the screen, though Gabriel suspects that she doesn’t intend for him to hear that commentary.

He accepts the call. “Adrien.”

“Dad,” comes the frantic response. “Is the Guardian with you?”

Technically, he supposes, Ladybug is the Guardian now, but that’s not what Adrien is asking him. “Not exactly,” he answers. “What’s wrong?”

“Nathalie is really not well,” he says, and Gabriel’s heart sinks through the floor. 

“How ‘not well?’”

_ “Bad,”  _ he says, pulling no punches. “She passed out, and her fever is out of control. I don’t have any medicine left to give her. Please tell me the Guardian is on the way with the cure, because I don’t think she can last much longer.”

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We now have a cure, but Nathalie is struggling. Does Marinette have the skills to save her?  
P.S. Don't forget to sign up for the Reverse Bang!


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fu being gone is the new reality that must be faced. Curing Nathalie rests on the shoulders of the new young Guardian.

Nathalie doesn’t have much longer.

“He…” Gabriel stops, at a loss on where even to begin. In his hesitation, he realizes that he still doesn’t know if Marinette is even capable of administering the cure. While they have the instructions and most of the ingredients, she never completed her training with the Guardian. “I…” he tries again, feeling the words catch like cotton in his throat.

“Dad?” Adrien presses. “What’s wrong? Are you there?”

Gabriel wants to answer, but he doesn’t know how to broach any of the important topics that need to be shared. His hand trembles, and his jaw is clenched shut.

“Mister Agreste,” Ladybug cuts in. He looks at her with pleading eyes, and she seems to catch his point of distress, offering her hand to take the phone from him. With a shaky sigh, he passes it over to her.

He watches as Ladybug brings the phone up to her ear. “It’s me,” she says. “What’s going on?”

She nods as Adrien explains to her. Gabriel wrings his hands.

“Okay. It’s okay, Adrien, we’ll be there soon,” she assures him. She pauses, listening again. A mournful look passes over her face. “The Guardian? No. It’s… complicated.” She glances at Gabriel. “We don’t have time for me to explain it all. He’s not coming, but it won’t be an issue. I have the instructions and I’m confident enough to do it.”

“Really?” Gabriel whispers, partially so he won’t interrupt, and partially because he finds himself short of breath.

She gives him an encouraging nod, still listening in. He falls onto his back, sending waves of gratitude up to whatever deity has seemingly chosen to look out for him.

He hears Ladybug give a few more quick responses before hanging up. As soon as the call has ended, he jumps back to his feet, even though the exhaustion is catching up to him and pulling him down. The last thing he is going to do, however, is let his tiredness delay them any further. “What else do we need here?”

She hands him one of the pages of notes and points. “I’ll pull out any ingredients he has here. Read through the household stuff and make sure you have it at home.”

She rummages through the safe as he carefully looks over the list. As he reads down, he becomes more and more confused, finding the descriptions to be incredibly cryptic. “‘A kiss of sight for the path ahead?’ ‘Verdant methods of mending?’” he asks. “What does that mean?”

She comes back towards him and sheepishly flips the page. “Sorry,” she says. “This side is the translation.” She rushes back to the safe, telling him as she continues to search, “A lot of these are additions to make it more stable, for the baby. There are fewer ingredients in the original spell.”

He looks down the list again, finding it much more clear which are meant to be simple items, and which are abstract “ingredients.” He sticks to the physical ingredients as he works his way down. A spool of green thread will certainly be easy enough, as well as a basin of water. He has to think a bit harder about whether they actually have any mustard seeds in their cupboard, especially since he doesn’t visit the kitchen himself, but he remembers that Nathalie’s recent cravings for Indian food have ensured they are stocked up. “I have all of this at home.”

“Good. I’m almost done here.” She seems to be doing just as well as he is, until she reaches the last item on her own list. “Oh, come on,” she frets. “We don’t have  _ this  _ of all things?”

“What are you missing?” he asks, heart sinking.

“Dried daffodil petals.” She pulls at her pigtails. “I don’t know what to do. We could go to a florist, but they would be fresh.”

“How many?”

“Only seven, but—” She breaks off with a worried sigh.

He blinks at her, disbelieving of his second stroke of luck. “Amazingly, we have that,” he says. “We had some up in our bedroom. They’ve been on their last legs, but we never got around to throwing them out, not after the assault.”

Ladybug breathes a sigh of relief. “In that case, we have all the rest we need right here.” She gestures to the little pile she has gathered outside the safe. She looks back to the safe itself with a frown. “There’s so much important stuff here. And now that we know this place isn’t secure…”

“Can we take it with us without delaying any further?”

She snaps her fingers with realization. “Yes! And we can get there quicker than we would have otherwise.” She opens up her yo-yo and removes the Horse miraculous, surprising Gabriel by extending it to him.

“Me?” he asks, but quickly shakes his head. It isn’t the right time to question his worthiness.

“You’ve used it before,” she justifies while he removes his glasses and puts the new ones on.

Kaalki spirals out, and Gabriel doesn’t mean to be rude, but there is no time to waste. “Kaalki, full gallop!” he says, without greeting.

It is a different transformation — not Sleipnir, but something new without the use of the Mouse miraculous. He doesn’t take much time to ruminate on it, however, quickly calling on his power to open a portal into his bedroom.

He and Ladybug quickly take stacks of books and scrolls, shoving them through the portal until the safe has been emptied. Once that task is completed, they each take an armful of spell ingredients, careful to not leave anything behind, and they step through.

It takes all of the new hero’s willpower to not dump his ingredients onto the ground, but he manages to set them down gently before rushing to Nathalie’s side, dropping his transformation as he does so.

“My dear,” Gabriel breathes desperately. She is in much worse shape than he left her in only half an hour ago — pale, and sweaty, and deeply pained, even in unconsciousness. He lays his hand on her forehead, and searing heat meets his palm.

“Dad? Marinette? What happened?” Adrien exclaims.

Ladybug lets out a choked sob, and Gabriel turns his head to find her fighting back tears.

He decides to speak for her, removing the small burden that he can. “The Guardian is gone,” he says, guilt settling in deeper as Adrien looks at him with deer-in-the-headlights shock. “We’ll fill you in fully later, but for now…”

“Let’s get started,” Ladybug says, a look of cold determination making a home across her features. Tears still glaze her eyes slightly, but the rest of her expression is hardened and focused. “Adrien, I need you to go fill up a basin of water. Mister Agreste, can you get the other ingredients we need?”

Adrien remains frozen. “Come on,” Gabriel says, tugging him gently by the arm. Adrien follows numbly, still disbelieving as he allows his father to lead him downstairs.

“How…” he finally begins, but he loses words again.

Gabriel hesitates, wondering if he should put off revealing anymore until they can have a proper conversation, but he decides honesty is the best approach. “We don’t know exactly what happened, but his apartment was ransacked and he was nowhere to be found.” His voice softens. “He seems to have been attacked. I’m sorry.”

Adrien’s face is creased with sorrow, but he seems to sharpen up in spite of his devastation. “That’s awful,” he says, but he doesn’t wait much longer to continue with, “Let’s get what we need so we can fix this quickly.” He runs off in the opposite direction than Gabriel, who rushes to his atelier to retrieve thread. Adrien is already carrying the basin of water upstairs from the kitchen by time Gabriel is heading into it with a spool of green thread in his hand. He quickly grabs the mustard seeds from the pantry and follows Adrien’s path up the stairs.

In the meantime, Ladybug has set up all the ingredients that they took with them from the Guardian’s apartment. Gabriel reenters the room to find her plucking dead petals off of the daffodils in the mixed bouquet of flowers.

“There are enough, aren’t there?” he frets.

“Yeah,” she assures him. “It’s probably a good thing you forgot to water them.”

He places the thread and seeds into her empty, outstretched hand, and she begins to lay her newest items out.

“Did we miss anything?” he asks.

“I need one more thing from you.” She places the petals gently on the wooden chest she has claimed as her workspace. “You’re still wearing the miraculous, right?”

“Yes.”

“Open a portal to the  _ Fontaine des Mers. _ ” She doesn’t even look at him to see his raised brow before explaining, “I need to retrieve a few wishing coins from the basin.”

In no time at all, he calls his transformation and powers back up. Ladybug, having completed the rest of her setup, jumps through. She returns a few seconds later with a fistful of dripping coins.

He closes the portal quickly and drops his transformation. Ladybug finally drops her own.

Tikki looks at her holder with mournful eyes. “Marinette…”

Marinette merely shakes her head. “I know, Tikki. Not now.” She turns her head towards Adrien for a moment, and they share a heavy look. “It’s urgent that we heal Nathalie before she gets any worse. I know the Guardian is in trouble, but—” she wavers.

Adrien reassures her with a hand on her back. “We can’t do anything for him right now,” he says, and Marinette’s shoulders relax from their tense heights, given permission to let go. “But you can help  _ her.” _

“You’re right.”

Tikki, still looking fairly worried, gives her holder a quick kiss on the cheek before flitting over to a spot more out of the way. She gestures toward Plagg and Kaalki, and they quickly join her, wearing concerned expressions of their own. Gabriel can see them whispering among themselves, but he is far more interested in getting Nathalie back to health than listening in on their chatter.

“What do Adrien and I do?”

“Both of you, sit by her and comfort her,” Marinette says. “The spell will heal her as soon as it’s completed, but I don’t know if she will actually  _ feel  _ better right away. But Mister Agreste, one of the ingredients needs to come from you.”

His brows shoot up. “Which would that be?”

“‘A kiss of sight for the path ahead,’” she quotes. “You’re the path ahead — someone who has been hurt by the broken miraculous and already healed. The ‘kiss of sight’ is a kiss to her forehead… her third eye.”

Though he laments the fate that has befell him, Gabriel is still suspicious of the Guardian, unable to brush away the months of struggle against him. “How was I healed? Nobody did that for me.”

“It’s not part of the original cure,” she says. “It’s something we added specifically for Nathalie.”

Adrien pulls his focus with a quick touch to his arm. “I know it’s a lot to trust the Guardian. But trust  _ Marinette, _ Dad. She knows what she’s doing.”

“Of course,” Gabriel says quickly, making a point to move to Nathalie’s side. “Forgive me. When will you need me?”

“Watch for my cue.”

They all settle in to begin. Adrien grabs Nathalie’s hand, but then looks to Marinette for guidance. “Will it mess things up if we touch her?”

“Not at all.” She uncorks a bottle of unknown liquid and unscrews the mustard seed jar.

Gabriel grabs Nathalie’s other hand. She turns her face blindly toward him, twisted in pain. He strokes her hair and hopes this will all be over soon, that he’ll never have to see her in such a state again.

“Ready?” Marinette asks. They nod. Gabriel trains his eyes obediently to Marinette, even though he’s yearning to watch Nathalie’s face for evidence that the pain may be melting away.

The wishing coins are dropped into the basin with little splashes. Marinette takes a daffodil petal, dips it in the water, and places it on top of Nathalie’s belly. She repeats this action for all remaining six petals, scoops the coins out of the basin, and dries her hands.

She begins to mix things together, chanting as she does so. Gabriel’s heart is pounding with a mixture of nerves, adrenaline, and dread. As much as he trusts Marinette on a personal level, he can’t help but fear that the training she has received is not enough, and that she isn’t prepared to take on a spell like this without the Guardian to guide her.

And for all he doesn’t mind Marinette’s clumsiness usually, he is watching for it now like a hawk.

But Marinette doesn’t stumble, and Gabriel soon relaxes. He begins to realize that although her words and actions are slow and deliberate — mechanical, even — they are extremely accurate. She is taking her time to make sure that every step is done right. The spell may take longer than if Fu himself was executing it, but Marinette is completing it with excruciating precision. Any mistake is highly unlikely.

There is something in the pattern that is familiar, and it seems that in his subconscious state when he was the one being healed from broken magic, he absorbed some of what was happening in his surroundings. The rhythm is ingrained in his body, and he instinctively knows every part of the spell that is an addition to what the Guardian did for him. They eventually hit a long unrecognizable section, and after several minutes, Marinette indicates for him to kiss Nathalie on the forehead.

He looks down at his beloved after what feels like forever, relieved to find that her face is not screwed as tightly as before. Her brow is relaxed down, and although her mouth is still pressed into a tight line, it is not with as much tension as it had held at the start of the spell.

He leans in and tenderly kisses her forehead, relieved that he can look at her again, now that his part of the spell is done. He feels no need to check in on Marinette, any doubts about her competence vanquished by this point. He does glance up at Adrien, who he finds to be in an emotional state. His eyes are watery, but he gives Gabriel a smile of unbridled hope.

Gabriel recognizes that they find themselves in an odd emotional limbo. Even though he’d butted heads with the Guardian many times, he never wanted to see the man attacked and taken from his home. All the same, he can’t press down the joy he feels at knowing Nathalie will finally, after a long and painful journey, be healed. It may be the worst day of the Guardian’s life, but for Gabriel, it is about to be one of the best.

Marinette continues on with the spell. The process is long, but she navigates it expertly. For all her worry that Nathalie would still be in pain after the spell was completed, it seems that for once, fortune is on their side, as Nathalie’s face looks to be more and more relaxed as the spell goes on.

As it was for Gabriel when he was being healed, she begins to wake before Marinette has completed the cure. The first signs of consciousness manifest as tiny hums, accompanied by her head turning on the pillow several times. Gabriel has to gently stop her from rolling onto her side, worried that displacement of the petals could ruin the process.

Nathalie finally begins to blink her eyes open, and as she catches sight of Gabriel, she gives him a sleepy, contented smile that lights his heart up with joy and gratitude. As soon as the corners of her lips turn upwards, he knows in his soul that the cure is working and she is going to be alright.

After a few minutes of coming to her senses, she glances down towards the foot of the bed, confused to hear Marinette reciting the spell rather than the man she had expected to be healed by. Gabriel merely shakes his head and presses a finger to his lips in a silent promise to tell her later.

They sit for several minutes more, exchanging peaceful glances between the three of them and throwing the occasional fond look to Marinette, who remains focused as ever in the final stretch of the cure. After what feels like years, Marinette speaks the final words of the spell, lowers the paper, and looks at them with fearful expectation.

“Is she better?” She pauses, looking at them with wide eyes, but as Gabriel tries to answer her, she steamrolls over him. “I think I recited it the way it’s supposed to be, but I was never intended to be the one to read this. I could have mismeasured something, or skipped a line, or mispronounced—”

Adrien merely laughs and tackles her in a teary, relieved hug.

Gabriel turns to Nathalie, amusement crinkling his eyes, and asks,  _ “Are _ you better?” just to be sure, though he’s fairly certain he already knows the answer.

Tears pool up and her mouth splits wide into a grin. “I’d forgotten what it was like to feel… normal like this.”

“Oh,  _ mon dieu.  _ Thank you,” he breathes. He swoops in to capture her lips, desperate for an affirmation that they are really together and whole and unburdened for once. She kisses back happily, wrapping a hand around the back of his head to deepen it.

They separate, finding two tentative teenagers back at the bedside. “You’re sure, Nathalie?” Adrien asks.

“I’m much better,” Nathalie assures him. She lets out a deep, indulgent sigh. “I can breathe normally again. At least when the baby isn’t lodged up in my diaphragm.”

There are a few laughs shared, and looks of relief. “I really did it,” Marinette whispers. “I didn’t mess up.”

Nathalie gives her a rare look of utter warmth. “Yes,” she says, reaching out to her. “Thank you.” Marinette folds into her arms, looking in need of every bit of affection she is receiving.

After a moment, her shoulders begin to shake. Nathalie’s eyes go wide as she realizes the young hero is crying. For a second, she seems uncomfortable, but she quickly breaks out of it, pulling Marinette in tighter and rubbing her back soothingly.

After some time, Marinette pulls away, rubbing her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice still interrupted by sobs.

“Oh, Marinette,” Nathalie sighs. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She glances at the others. “I’m assuming this has something to do with the fact that you came to cure me instead of the Guardian?”

Marinette nods, struggling to hold back more tears.

“Yes,” Gabriel says. He sits on the edge of the bed and takes Nathalie’s hand in his. “It was quite a shock. He wasn’t ignoring us, after all.” He lets out a mournful sigh. “Someone broke into his apartment. There was clearly some kind of struggle, and he was nowhere to be found. I believe the evidence points towards a kidnapping, but we don’t know for certain.”

Nathalie gasps. “Oh, how awful.” The previous joy in the room has dissipated, replaced with unease and grief.

By this point, Marinette has composed herself. Although her expression still conveys misery, her eyes are dry and her shoulders set. “I should take Adrien to see for himself. I don’t want to leave you so soon after you’ve been healed, but—”

“It’s okay,” Nathalie assures her, even though Gabriel would like the additional watchful eyes in case an unexpected relapse occurs. “You did an excellent job with the spell, and you should go do anything else you need to attend to.” Marinette hovers unsurely, shifting back and forth on her feet. “I’m  _ healed. _ I can feel it.”

Gabriel reminds himself to trust Nathalie’s word. He can still remember how it felt to have the broken magic lifted from him. He could feel it in his bones, how the weight and static was siphoned out of him, leaving a body that felt startlingly clear. He’s sure she’s experiencing the same feelings tenfold.

He gestures for them to go, giving the best encouragement that he can. “Be careful. Stick together,” he cautions, finding himself more worried what could happen to the heroes, rather than what could happen in their absence.

“Call if anything goes wrong,” Nathalie adds.

“That goes for both of you,” Gabriel clarifies, making sure to give a pointed look to Marinette, as well.

Adrien gives a weak smile, taking her hand in his. “Don’t worry about us. The same goes for you guys, okay? If Nathalie starts feeling sick again—”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she insists. “The relief is overwhelming. I feel as if I’ve had barbed wire curled up inside of me for months, and it’s suddenly gone without a trace. If anything, I’m anxious to get moving again.” She pauses and looks at Marinette. “Can I?”

“I’d work back up to it slowly,” Marinette responds, “but you should be fine. The spell heals instantly. There’s no recovery period.”

“Thank you,” she sighs. “I’m glad to hear it.” She gives both of them an encouraging smile. “We won’t keep you any longer. Let us know if you need us.”

“Okay,” Adrien says. He gives each of them a quick hug. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Gabriel and Nathalie sit quietly after the teens have left. Gabriel finally broaches the question, “What now?”

“Now, I need a shower,” she sighs. He chuckles a bit at the mundane desire, and she smiles with him. “I know, I know. But my body feels disgusting. Don’t forget that I’ve been in a fight, thrown up, and gone through multiple fevers since the last time I washed.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he says, fibbing ever so slightly. Nathalie always looks lovely to him, but he can see how the stress of the past day and a half has settled onto her skin. He kisses her head. “Relax, get cleaned up. I’ll straighten up downstairs.”

The blood, vomit, and wine that had been splattered against the white marble have already been cleaned by the staff, but the sitting area in the foyer is still in a bit of disarray. Gabriel busies himself as he waits, straightening the furniture back to the way he likes it. He takes his time, being particular with the arrangement and lazy in his approach.

The baby monitors that Victoire had given are no longer there, likely thrown away by the staff at this point. However, the horrendous pink top is wedged in the cushions of Nathalie’s chair, tucked away from sight to the unobservant eye. Gabriel pulls it from its hiding place, intent on throwing it out, when he hears a  _ thud  _ from upstairs.

He doesn’t even think about it before he is rushing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time. He throws open the bedroom door, heart pounding in his chest as he rounds the corner to the bathroom and yanks the door open to reveal—

Nathalie, standing surprised, but totally intact, in the doorway. Her hair is wet, and she is wrapped in a fluffy white towel, no sign of injury apparent on her.

“I heard a noise,” Gabriel exclaims. “I thought you had fallen.”

Her brows raise. “I dropped my shampoo.”

He lets out a sigh he wasn’t aware of holding. “I’m sorry; I’m still on edge.”

She comes out from the doorway, walking with him into the bedroom. “I understand. It’s been a whirlwind of events.” She squeezes her hair out, droplets falling onto the towel wrapped around her. “How are you feeling?”

He puffs out his cheeks, considering it. “Honestly? Wonderful,” he tells her, surprising even himself. “And guilty for feeling wonderful. In all truth, I’m riding the high of you being well again. It’s a terrible thing that has happened to the Guardian, but not even that can overshadow how incredibly relieved I am to see you like this.”

She nods thoughtfully. “I feel incredible,” she admits. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I had superpowers again. I’m sorry for the Guardian, and for the kids for losing him, but it’s hard to stay down when I feel so  _ alive.” _

“We don’t have to feel bad for it,” he says, attempting to assure not just her, but himself as well. “A new problem has arisen, but we don’t have to ignore the one that has finally been resolved. We’re allowed to be happy.”

She sits down on the bed, facing him. “I suppose you’re right.” Her eyes dart left, to catch his shoulder, and she lets out an unexpected laugh. “Oh, Gabriel, why do you have  _ that?” _

He looks at himself in confusion, realizing that he’d tossed the terrible gift from Victoire over his shoulder in his rush to get upstairs. “Ah, I’d forgotten about that.”

Nathalie shakes her head. “If there’s one thing I’ll never understand, it’s that she gave us those baby monitors and then this shirt.” She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t even want those anymore. It feels distasteful now that she’s shown her true colors once more.”

“They’ve already been taken care of. I meant to throw this away, too. Unless there are any objections?” he teases.

“Wait,” she laughs, reaching to take it from. “I want to try it on. If nothing else, we deserve a good laugh from it.”

“I’m afraid I may never be attracted to you again,” he says drily, but he is soon swallowing his words as Nathalie drops her towel without a second thought, revealing her entire body, save for what is covered by a thin pair of panties. She disappears into the pink atrocity, poking her head out after a bit of a struggle. “Are you sure it will even fit?”

“Probably not,” she admits, standing. He is amused at how much time she is willing to dedicate to tugging the top down bit by bit, over her growing midsection. Somehow, she manages to pull it fully over the bump, and Gabriel must admit that the blouse isn’t  _ quite  _ as much of an eyesore on an exquisite woman such as Nathalie, even with the poor fit.

Still, it doesn’t look particularly comfortable. “Can you even breathe?” he asks.

She demonstrates, fully and deeply. The cheap fabric audibly creaks.

They both burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Thank you, Victoire,” Nathalie gasps. Still laughing, she begins pulling the hem of the shirt back up, not getting very far with it as she shakes with mirth.

“I think I may need to cut you out of that,” Gabriel jokes lightly, and is nearly startled by Nathalie’s howl of laughter, knowing it’s worth a chuckle, at best. “What?”

“You—just might—have to,” she tells him through endless peals of laughter, collapsing onto the bed. Tears stream down her face, starting him back into a cycle of laughter that has his sides aching.

They’re both still giggling a minute later, when he finally walks away to get a pair of scissors from the dresser. The sight of them has Nathalie crying with laughter again, which of course, sends Gabriel into another fit of his own. It takes several tries for him to calm himself enough to steady his hands and cut into the horrible, tacky fabric. “We should burn it after,” Nathalie remarks, as he slices it up the side. He is forced to pause to compose himself once more before he finally frees her from the infernal thing.

He tosses both shirt and scissors aside, leaning over her to tease once more, and is suddenly acutely aware of the lack of clothing between them. Seemingly Nathalie is thinking the exact same thing, because she soon reaches for him and pulls him into a passionate, hungry kiss, eyes still sparkling with tears of amusement.

He nearly pulls himself away and tells her to wait, instincts still urging him to be gentle and protective after all these months, but Nathalie’s increased strength quickly reminds him that she is no longer fragile.

He pulls back at the kiss’s natural end, taking the time to admire every inch of her beauty. “I believe we were interrupted by unfortunate circumstances the last time we tried this,” he murmurs. “Shall we finally pick up where we left off?”

Her eyes burn. “I thought you’d never ask,” she growls, pulling him back over her again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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You know what comes next: a smut one shot! Expect it sometime in the next few days.  
P.S. Don't forget to sign up for the Reverse Bang!


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a mystery to be solved, but the clues aren't adding up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to sign up for the Reverse Bang! Only a few days remain!
> 
> [ GabeNath Reverse Bang ](https://gabenathreversebang.tumblr.com)  


🦋

Gabriel and Nathalie have one week of blissful peace, free of any worry of relapse, as it becomes clear that Nathalie is stronger and healthier than ever after the cure.

They’re of course aware that Fu’s disappearance has caused a major problem for Adrien and Marinette, but Adrien comes back from their initial investigation quite quiet. Gabriel expresses his concern and curiosity, but once Adrien hesitantly makes it clear that the information is on a need-to-know basis, Gabriel doesn’t push. The only thing he makes Adrien promise is that he’ll tell him if he’s putting himself in danger, but Adrien assures him that at the moment, he’s at no higher risk than Gabriel is.

Without anything they can do to help, and a new cloud of secrecy over the Guardian’s disappearance, Gabriel and Nathalie accept that there is nothing to be done, and they might as well enjoy the first bit of happiness and calm that they have had in a long time. Gabriel returns to work in order to get ahead before the baby is born, and although he insists that Nathalie continue to take time off and rely on the extra employees he has hired, she often acts as an extra eye as he is trying to polish his work.

Her biggest criticism, however, is often, “That’s me,” which frankly, Gabriel can’t help. He has always worked best with a muse. When Emilie was alive, his sketches were of petite blonde women with delicate features. Now, the model in his imagination is tall and dark-haired, with big blue eyes.

Nathalie’s company highly improves his morale and boosts his creativity, leading him to catch up very quickly, with  _ designs  _ that Nathalie approves of wholeheartedly, if not the sketches themselves for featuring her likeness. With Gabriel moving at such a quick pace, the work doesn’t carve out too much of his time, allowing him to spend many wonderful hours with Nathalie outside of the office as well. For once, they finally are able to interact like a normal couple — eating meals together at the table, starting new projects, and admittedly, enjoying a lot of intimacy with each other, especially since Adrien is out of the house so frequently these days. 

Mostly, however, they are simply content to be in each other’s presence without a constant looming worry.

With Nathalie and the baby’s health no longer presenting such uncertainty, they begin to plan for the arrival of their child with less inhibition, talking about the future as if it is sure to come, rather than the large question mark it has been for several months. For the first time, they dedicate a specific time to sitting down and discussing baby names, which leaves Gabriel more emotional than he’d care to admit.

‘Antoine’ and ‘Camille’ are not considered as options.

They also begin to plan the nursery. It is Nathalie’s project entirely; Gabriel is merely a helping hand, while she is the creative lead. At first, she proposes for them to come up with the design together, and he worries that she will take his reluctance to make decisions as a reluctance to be involved.

“I’m a fashion designer,” he says carefully, “not an interior designer. As much as I’d like to contribute in such a capacity, I’m afraid I could only provide disappointment.”

“You don’t want to be involved in the design, then,” she presses.

He takes her hand and tries to let her down gently. “I am here to support you in any way, but I will fall short of the mark if you want me to make decisions.”

It turns out, however, that his answer is exactly what Nathalie is hoping for. “Good.” She steps away from him, leaving him confused until she returns with a folder that is stuffed to the brim. “This is what I have so far.” The folder lands on the table heavily, and she opens it to show dozens of pages — carefully selected color palettes, printouts of items she wants to buy, colored sketches by her own hand, and much more.

Gabriel can only laugh.

She furrows her brow. “Is it that bad?”

“No,” he is quick to assure her. “I only wonder why you asked me first when you clearly have put so much thought into it yourself.”

Her eyes soften. “I thought you might be offended. I didn’t want to step on toes.”

“God, no,” he insists. “I make quite enough decisions in my line of work. I am happy to give the reins to you.” He kisses her on the cheek. “This is quite impressive. Why don’t you talk me through it?”

“I like this shade of blue,” she says, pointing to one of her swatches, showing a mellow ocean color. “I don’t care for gendered decorations; I think it’s a pretty color for either a boy or girl, don’t you think?”

“It’s very neutral and calming,” he agrees. “What else?”

From there, she details him on her other plans for the nursery, and he happily listens, finding himself enthralled by her passion and creativity. It’s always refreshing when Nathalie takes the reins, as she has such a natural ability to lead.

All in all, it is a very nice, laidback week, but there is one point of contention between them: Raimunde.

“It looks suspicious,” Gabriel pleads with Nathalie, as she stares at the fourth text in a row that she refuses to answer, ignoring the lunch in front of her.

“It doesn’t look suspicious,” she snaps back. “Any woman would be offended that her husband was accused of being Papillon, whether it was true or not. I should block her,” she says. She makes no move to do so, but still continues to say, “I should go no-contact,” firmly.

He shakes his head. “Not every woman has a friend who has already risked her career for her — did you say husband?” he asks, absorbing her full statement halfway through his own.

She blushes in spite of her frustration with him. “Partner. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“No need to apologize for that,” he tells her, their argument temporarily paused. “I was only surprised. I can’t say I haven’t nearly referred to you as my wife myself.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” He reaches across the table to take her hand. “Our time as a couple has been short, but intense, not to mention all the years we spent as close friends. I feel like we are married already, even if not officially.” His stomach flutters with nerves as he suggests, “Perhaps we should just tie the knot already.”

She smiles at him. “You’d want that so soon?”

“Would you?”

She looks down, patting her stomach. “Not yet. It would be a lot to plan for a wedding while planning for a baby, but after it’s born, I think.”

Nathalie’s phone buzzes again, and he glances down at it. “And it would give you plenty of time to patch things up with Raimunde first, too.”

Nathalie groans. “Oh, Gabriel, not this again. Why do you even want this so bad after she assumed the worst of you?”

“Because it’s not about me, my dear.” He takes a sip of his water, and looks out the window. “You’re a person who thrives when she has friends. You deserve to have someone outside of Adrien and myself, and I know you care for Raimunde a lot.” He looks back at her, taking in her hesitant expression. “I don’t want you to lose that, not for my sake.”

Her unsureness turns to determination. “I will not lose  _ you  _ for  _ her,”  _ she insists.

Gabriel sighs, recognizing that this approach will get him nowhere. “Alright.”

She crosses her arms, staring grumpily at the wall.

He tries a different tactic. “Have you called your current gynecologist yet?”

She looks at him in surprise, totally disarmed. “Oh. No, not yet.”

“Why not? You’ll have to soon for another appointment.”

She glares at him out of the corner of her eye. “I know what you’re doing. It’s nothing like that; I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“You’ve had all the time in the world,” he points out. “What is stopping you?”

She shakes her head angrily and avoids his eyes. “I forgot.”

“No, you didn’t,” he chuckles. “You, my dear, have the most airtight memory that I have ever encountered in my life. You’re holding out. You wanted Raimunde to take over for the remainder of your pregnancy, and you don’t want to let go of that.”

To his alarm, her eyes burn with tears. “Fine, do you have to rub it in?”

“No.” He quickly rises from his chair and kneels at hers, pressing his lips to her hand. “I don’t mean to upset you. I only don’t want you to miss out on the chance to involve your dear friend.”

Nathalie sniffles. She doesn’t look at him, but she does give his hand a little squeeze to indicate she is listening.

“Call them both,” Gabriel says. “You’ll need time to patch things up with Raimunde and rebuild trust, and you have another appointment that needs to be had in the meantime.”

“I want to call her,” Nathalie whispers. “I really do. But Gabriel, how do we even deal with this? How can we move past it, when she still believes—?”

“We will figure it out,” he assures her. “One step at a time. For now, you need to make sure that you don’t lose your remaining chances to do so.”

She looks down at him with a sad smile. “Will you be okay? I can’t imagine you’d want her around.”

“I want what will make you happy,” he tells her. “And I want to prove myself worthy. I can’t do that in hiding.”

She looks pensively at their joined hands for a moment. “I would like to make amends with her,” she finally says. “I don’t know if it is possible, but if you think we can figure it out, then I’ll give it a shot.” She breathes in deeply, and grabs her phone. “Help me up?”

He grabs her free hand and gives her the momentum to rise, keeping her steady. Although the cure has returned Nathalie’s strength to her, she is still a willowy woman with a large baby bump that throws her off balance, and he is always careful to make sure she keeps upright when she rises from a seated position.

“Thank you.” She sighs, “I guess I’ll go make a few calls now,” but for once, her eyes show more hope than defeat in them.

Once the Raimunde issue is somewhat resolved, the rest of the week is peaceful. The nursery, formerly a guest room, now has a new coat of primer on it, and Gabriel has finished nearly all the designs he will need to create for the next season. 

However, the tranquility can’t last forever. The end to their little break doesn’t end in the most disruptive way possible, but there is still a major shift in the air when Adrien enters the unfinished nursery hand-in-hand with Marinette one day and asks, “Can we all sit down and talk?”

They descend onto the first floor and into the dining room. Adrien pulls out the chair for Marinette at the head of the table, and she blushes furiously, reluctant to take it until Gabriel gives her an encouraging nod. Adrien sits to her right, and Gabriel helps Nathalie into the seat at her left, before taking the next open one.

Marinette clears her throat. “First of all… I’m sorry,” she says. “We didn’t want to drag either of you into this now that Nathalie is healed, but…” her eyes skirt over to Adrien.

“You’re the only people, aside from us, who understand the situation so fully,” he continues for her.

“Exactly.” Marinette adjusts a pigtail nervously. “We can’t figure this out between just the two of us. We need help, and if we don’t go to you—”

“—We’d have to explain everything that has happened to someone else. Which we don’t want to do,” Adrien finishes.

Gabriel lets out a heavy breath. “Well, we certainly appreciate the discretion. The thought of involving someone else at this point — well, I won’t deny that it worries me.”

“And we want to be here for you,” Nathalie adds. “We’ve been keeping ourselves busy this week, but we were still worried about you. After what happened to the Guardian…” She trails off.

There is a somber silence. “We were hoping to fill you in on that,” Marinette finally breaks in. “If you’ll let us.”

“Of course,” Gabriel is quick to say. “We’ve been on the edge of our seats for any news, but we thought it best not to pry.”

“We’ve been investigating all week,” Marinette says. “There is tons of debris that we had to sort through, not to mention that we felt the need to search for additional secret compartments after we found one.”

“Did you find others?” Nathalie asks. Her fingers curl around the edge of the table.

Marinette shakes her head.

Nathalie’s hands fall into her lap. “So then Duusu…”

“I’m sorry, Nathalie,” Adrien says. “We didn’t find the Peacock miraculous.”

She nods, eyes downcast.

Gabriel reaches to take her hand. He intertwines his fingers with hers and gives a comforting squeeze. “What about the Turtle?”

“The Turtle is gone too,” Adrien tells them. “We didn’t find anything else related to the Miraculous.”

“Yeah, it seems that you and I found all there was to be found, Mister Agreste,” Marinette says. “That safe had tons of useful information that I still haven’t sorted through completely, but it’s the only place that anything was hidden. I think anything else of value was stolen.”

Gabriel swallows. “Do you have any idea of what may have been lost? Whoever did this — do they have access to powerful spells and weapons?”

“Thankfully no.” She clasps her hands above the table. “Not in addition to the miraculous. At least, all of the materials I encountered during my training were in that safe. We think that’s where he kept all of his Guardian-related items, with the exception of the medicines.”

“And those weren’t explicitly for spells either,” Adrien chimes in. “He used a bunch of those powders for his civilian practice. We don’t think they will be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Especially since they don’t have the instructions to use them,” Marinette says triumphantly. “So that was the silver lining we found.” Her shoulders droop. “But we did find something more… concerning?”

“Or at least confusing,” Adrien corrects.

Gabriel leans forward anxiously. “What is it?”

“Okay, so… this is  _ weird,”  _ Marinette prefaces. “We don’t really know what to make of this. But we found Master Fu’s watch.”

“The wristband was broken,” Adrien says. “It looks like it was probably pulled off during the initial struggle.”

“Right, and at that point, it either broke on impact or was stepped on. We looked at the face of the watch, and it said 2:21 AM.”

Gabriel frowns. “Alright. Why is that a surprise? The attack could have happened at any point after I left the premises.”

“It wouldn’t have been surprising,” Adrien tells him, “if we hadn’t found another clock.”

Gabriel’s brow furrows with confusion, but Nathalie straightens up in her chair. “Oh! Another  _ broken  _ clock?”

“You see where we’re going with this,” Marinette says, and Gabriel realizes he’s the only one out of the loop at this point. “There was a clock in the hall that was also shattered. But this one didn’t say 2:21 AM. It wasn’t anywhere  _ near  _ 2:21 AM.”

Realization sinks in. “How big was the gap?”

“Significant,” Adrien says. “Enough that it couldn’t have been part of one continuous struggle.”

Marinette opens up her phone, presumably to check her notes. “8:55 AM.”

A chill runs up Gabriel’s spine. “That’s only twenty minutes before we arrived.”

Nathalie subconsciously rubs soothing circles over her belly. “What could it mean? I understand the premise, but it seems so random.”

Marinette looks at Adrien. “We’ve been wondering that ourselves, and we’ve been talking it over during these past few days, but the best we have is speculation.”

“At first we thought maybe two different attackers came in the same day. It could be that the first took Master Fu, and the second tore the place apart looking for something.”

“But it seemed far fetched,” Marinette muses. “Two attackers in one day?”

“It does seem unlikely,” Gabriel admits. “What other thoughts did you have?”

“One attacker. Or at the very least, one group of attackers,” Adrien says.

“But we think one,” Marinette emphasizes. “One person who attacked in the early morning, and then again around eight.”

“Why though?” Nathalie asks. “Why risk being caught twice?”

“That’s what I asked!” Adrien exclaims. “We think we have two possible explanations.”

“First of all, it could be that they kidnapped the Guardian for a purpose, and he didn’t give them what they needed. So they went back in search of whatever was missing.”

“It seems to be a reasonable explanation,” Gabriel says. His eyes narrow. “But something tells me this isn’t your primary guess.”

“It was at first,” Marinette says. “But something kept nagging at me. Mister Agreste, did you find the destruction there to be a bit excessive?”

He casts his eyes down. “My actions didn’t help. I apologize for breaking what was left.”

“That’s not my point,” she insists. “Remember how the room looked before either of us even touched a thing. Literally  _ everything  _ was broken, right?”

“It certainly seemed that way.”

“But how would that happen? Have you ever seen a fight where the entire room was wrecked?”

Gabriel stops and thinks. He honestly can’t say he has; not on the occasions that akuma battles have happened in his own home, and not when Victoire assaulted Nathalie the week before. An item here and there would be broken, but he’d never seen it impact the entire room. “I have not,” he answers carefully.

Nathalie leans forward and taps her chin. “You think it was staged.”

Adrien’s lip pulls to the side. “It’s possible.”

“It’s what  _ I  _ think,” Marinette interjects. “It’s a little too convenient that so much was destroyed. I think that the Guardian was taken not so violently; he may have even been subdued beforehand.”

“How?”

“Oh, it could be any number of things,” Marinette says. “Chloroform. A magic spell. The window was broken inwards, so it could have even been a tranquilizer dart. Or some other kind of drug to weaken him.”

Nathalie flinches. Gabriel runs a soothing thumb over the back of her hand. “It’s okay,” he reminds her, whispering. “Remember all is forgiven.”

“I don’t think his attacker was very strong,” Marinette continues, oblivious to how Nathalie has been reminded of her past transgressions. Her face is deep into her notes at this point, taking little notice of what else is happening around her. “I think they used cheap tricks to weaken Master Fu and took him that way. Then, they came back to make it look like a bigger attack than it was. They smashed and threw things and put on a big show to make it seem like someone bigger or more powerful was responsible.”

“But why?” Adrien argues. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“For intimidation?” Marinette suggests. “Or to throw us off the scent. They want us to be afraid. They want to keep us from pursuing this.”

“It’s silly,” he counters. “It’s a huge risk with little reward.”

“Why else would they tear down pictures and scrolls and clocks?”

“What, so they should have attacked gently?”

“Okay,” Gabriel interrupts. “Clearly, you two have different theories on the matter. Adrien, what do you think happened if you don’t agree with Marinette’s explanation?”

“Whoever attacked probably had some connection to the miraculous or the Guardians. Why else would they go after Master Fu?” he asks, shaking his head. “This is someone who is already acquainted with magic. They may have even already had a miraculous before they attacked.”

Nathalie’s eyes widen. “But aside from the Peacock and the Turtle, aren’t all miraculous accounted for? Marinette has the box.”

“Yes, but there is more than one Miracle Box,” Marinette answers begrudgingly. “That used to not be the case, but ever since the Guardian’s Temple was restored, there have been other boxes brought back into existence. We have no idea what other miraculous exist out there.”

“Exactly,” Adrien says triumphantly. “Think about it: an unknown miraculous that could do just about anything. It’s not that far fetched that it could create that kind of destruction.”

“But it is far fetched that it would be in Paris,” Marinette argues.

“Ours are in Paris.”

“That’s different!” she exclaims, throwing up her hands. “Our Box is the exception. The only reason it wasn’t destroyed is because Master Fu took it from the Temple and watched over it for all these years. The rest will have reappeared in Tibet, and it seems very unlikely that the Guardians would let more of them out of their sight when the entire organization has just been restored.”

“Then maybe it’s a Guardian,” Adrien argues. Marinette scoffs, causing him to frown. “Don’t you think at least one of them might have had it out for Master Fu after he caused the destruction of the Temple? Not that I’m blaming him!” Adrien says quickly when Marinette gives him a wounded look. “But it could be that his old friends there weren’t too pleased with the way things went down.”

“Fine. But what about the two clocks? Why the delay?”

“If I may offer a third possibility,” Gabriel interjects. “I think either of you could be correct, and I don’t find  _ either  _ of your theories to be very far fetched. But have you considered that perhaps the damage was done by the Peacock or Turtle miraculous? Or perhaps even both?”

“You think that Master Fu did that? To his own apartment?” Marinette asks.

“I’m not suggesting one way or another,” he says, holding his hands up in defense. “In fact, I find it far more likely that it would be one of his attackers. It would also explain the clock situation; they took the miraculous from the Guardian, took some time to figure out how to use them, and then created that destruction later, whether intentional or not.”

There is an uneasy silence as Gabriel’s companions consider his theory. This third possibility seems to raise more questions than it gives answers, leading Gabriel to wonder whether he is actually helpful in any capacity.

“We have to wonder what this means in terms of the miraculous,” Marinette finally speaks softly. “Was Master Fu some kind of personal target, or was he attacked for his presumed possession of the universe’s most powerful objects?”

“I’d love to tell you it was personal,” Gabriel says. “Now that I’ve seen the other side, I can tell you for certain that I do not want another Papillon or Mayura running around. That kind of power in the wrong hands is never a good idea.” He runs his finger along the edge of the table, deep in thought. “Unfortunately, it seems likely that the miraculous themselves were the target. All three of our theories acknowledge that the attacker was looking for  _ something. _ If it wasn’t the miraculous, what else would it be?”

Heads hang heavy. Adrien sighs. “Any chance that they just want it for a shiny collector’s item? A fashion piece? Anything other than supervillain motives?”

Marinette shakes her head before dropping it into her hands. She sighs. “I think it’s time that we accept that we’ll be seeing a new Peacock villain soon. Or Turtle villain. We thought the fight was over, but it’s far from it.”

Gabriel grows uncomfortably warm, sweating as he realizes exactly how deep of trouble they are in. “I wish we could have been better help.” His hands circle over each other nervously. “Does this mean you’re going to go to the other heroes to resolve this problem?”

For all the bickering, Marinette and Adrien seem to be on the same page about this. “No!” they exclaim in tandem.

Marinette takes over. “Neither of us expected to solve this mystery today, and you both have gotten us much closer anyway.”

“Your secret is safe,” Adrien assures them. “All we wanted was some guidance.”

Marinette frowns — an expression that is further than skin deep and truly extends down into her bones, bringing her to curl her over herself like a weeping willow. “With Master Fu gone, I’m the Guardian now. But I can’t be the authority on everything; I’m just not ready, and I need… an adult to turn to.” She looks between Gabriel and Nathalie. “Or two. If you’re willing to lend an ear and give some advice from time to time.”

Nathalie lets out a breath, shaking her head in a gesture that isn’t exactly a “no,” but that shows her hesitance.

Gabriel understands. There is a lot that both Marinette and Adrien need that they can’t adequately provide for them. “I’m afraid you’ll only be disappointed. The information at our disposal is quite limited compared to the Guardian.”

“It’s a good thing I have all the information, then,” Marinette says. “We’re not looking for expertise on the subject. Just some guidance from someone who at least knows a little bit about the situation.”

“That’s even worse,” Nathalie snaps, and Gabriel turns to her in surprise. He finds, however, that in spite of clenched fists and a set jaw, Nathalie is trembling, looking far more afraid than angry. “We’re not role models. Only a few months ago, I was fighting you.  _ All  _ of you.” Her eyes skirt over to Gabriel, weighed down by guilt.

Gabriel rises and stands behind Nathalie’s chair, leaning down to wrap his arms around her. He kisses the side of her head, murmuring, “It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay.”

“You’re much more than that, Nathalie,” Adrien speaks up.

“And even then,” Marinette adds, “that’s  _ valuable  _ to us. Your perspective is always going to be different from ours. We need your insight here more than ever.”

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone else,” she whispers. “Especially after what happened to the Guardian.”

“That’s not your fault,” Adrien protests, and Gabriel lets out a sound of agreement.

“But it is!” She wrings her hands, running her fingers over her knuckles in an obsessive pattern. “Gabriel went to the Guardian for my sake, and he was attacked that very night. You can’t tell me that was a coincidence. Gabriel must have been followed, and it’s my fault he had to go to begin with.”

“That’s actually Master Fu’s fault,” Adrien points out. “He promised me and Marinette that he’d be more available to you guys. Even if he didn’t think he could help, he should have at least answered the phone to listen and give us what he could.”

“And as much as I have… conflicting feelings about all of this,” Marinette says, “I have to admit that if Mister Agreste was followed, Master Fu only had himself to blame. He said he would get over his grudge and be fair. It’s his own unwillingness to do follow through that led him to this.” It looks as if it pains her to say this, but her words are strong with conviction.

“But even then, we  _ don’t  _ know that the attacker followed Dad,” Adrien adds. “I mean, yeah, it does seem a little too convenient to be coincidence, but that doesn’t rule it out. Marinette has been in and out of Fu’s a lot too recently.”

Nathalie looks at Marinette. Gabriel follows her gaze, noticing how Marinette’s shoulders are slumped with dejection. Nathalie sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m making this about myself and my feelings, but I should be asking you how you’re taking it.”

Marinette shakes her head, masking her emotion as she does so. “I don’t know how to feel yet. I’m sad, and scared, and worried for Master Fu. But I’m also a little bit… relieved? And I’m confused about feeling that way, and guilty, and I don’t know why it feels like a huge weight off my shoulders when I should be feeling the pressure of taking on the Guardianship.”

Adrien takes her hand. “That’s all normal, Marinette. And I think you feel like that because you know you can finally do things your own way. It’s hard to take on so much responsibility when you have to play by someone else’s rules. At least now you can make those decisions for yourself instead of needing approval every time you have an idea.”

“There is much I don’t know or understand about what a Guardian does,” Gabriel says, “but I’m sure you will be a good one. You’re already a great leader, and I’m sure you’ll tackle this new problem in your own way.”

Marinette slouches down, resting her cheek on her hand and grumbling, “It would be nice to know what exactly that new problem was. But so far there’s been no sign of either the Peacock or Turtle miraculous.”

“All we can do is wait,” Adrien says, “and hope that whoever has it makes a rookie mistake.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paris is about to change forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope Elias has recently done a lot of fanart for both TUTB and Heartbreaker, so go check those out! https://www.instagram.com/hopesartcastle/ It's a lot of beautiful work. Thank you, Hope!
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> Additional trigger warnings for this chapter in end notes.

_What's this mean? Should I know?_

🦋

The holiday season comes to a close with a feeling of unease. Adrien and Marinette are in mourning, for the lack of a better term, after the disappearance of the Guardian, and Gabriel and Nathalie can do nothing but hover awkwardly and offer their support, not having had the same close relationship or even a positive one with him before the attack. They do their best to be there for Adrien and Marinette, but to a certain extent, Gabriel feels as if he is being inauthentic. He hadn’t particularly liked the Guardian, and while he would never wish for his misfortune, he finds it hard to lament it.

Aside from the sorrow that the young heroes feel, the entire family is on edge, waiting for any sign of the attackers. The weeks go by without any sign from Fu’s kidnappers — not even a small bit of magic to investigate. It is a horrible, anticipatory feeling to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, one that dims the mood.

On top of it all, Nathalie’s spirits seem to sink after the initial conversation with Adrien and Marinette, after being filled in on the clues they’ve picked up. No matter how hard Gabriel and Adrien try to convince her otherwise, she is sure of her guilt in what has come to pass.

Gabriel worries as Nathalie continues to obsess over things that she cannot control, but no matter what approach he takes, she insists on continuing to paint herself as the villain. All he can really do is try to distract her and lift her spirits in other ways, because attempting to comfort her on the issue of their past villainy only seems to upset her further.

In an odd reversal from past months, the baby seems to be a safe topic that always brightens Nathalie’s mood, so Gabriel tries to keep her focused on their little one’s arrival, which approaches closer and closer every day. Nathalie’s belly has swelled up dramatically in the past few weeks, clearly showing the growth of their child, and this physical reminder seems to bring her comfort. The days are filled with nursery preparations, narrowing down their list of names, and doctor’s visits.

Christmas passes in a way that feels as if it hasn’t occurred at all. There isn’t much of a celebration, with everyone too wound up to appreciate it anyway. Aside from that, it is the first Christmas that Emilie has been truly  _ gone  _ for, and as much as Gabriel is looking toward the future, no longer beholden to his past, he still feels the slight weight of her loss in his soul.

He tries to brush it off. It isn’t appropriate to be mourning Emilie, not when he is deeply in love with Nathalie and excitedly awaiting the birth of their child. The feelings of grief manage to creep in anyway, especially as Adrien’s spirits are notably dampened as well.

Adrien is quiet that morning, and Gabriel is sure that Nathalie also notices. After an hour or so of tense silence, he finally looks at the two of them and says, “I’m going to go down to visit Mom, okay?”

“Okay,” they both answer.

Adrien leaves the room, and Gabriel’s eyes follow. When he turns back around, he finds Nathalie scrutinizing him. He feels a pit form in his stomach, and he attempts to act nonchalant as best as he can, but he can feel her eyes following him.

“Gabriel,” she finally says, after tracing his movements around the kitchen for a full minute. “Aren’t you going with him?”

“What for?”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

His mouth turns bitter, and not just from the coffee he is sipping. “Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why would I?”

“Gabriel!” she chastitizes. He screws up the courage to look her in the eyes, and her expression immediately softens. “Oh. You do. Why are you lying, my love?”

He shakes his head, breaking eye contact again. “I’m sorry, “ he whispers. “I’m so sorry; I know I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t? Gabriel, look at me.” He raises his gaze, and she reaches towards him to pull him in closer. She grabs him by the chin to force him to face her and looks into his eyes. “You are allowed to miss her. It’s okay.”

“I’m loyal to you,” he pledges. “I can’t control these feelings, but my love is for you. I swear.”

Her hand drifts to cup his face more gently, and her eyes search his. “Oh.  _ Oh.  _ I know. You don’t have to apologize. In fact, please don’t.” She drops her hands, and her brow lifts in concern. “I hope I haven’t done anything to make you feel like you can’t acknowledge Emilie.”

“You haven’t,” he is quick to say. “If anything, you’re far too patient with me. Emilie is my past; you are my future.”

“Gabriel,” she says sternly. “I never had any expectation that you would stop loving Emilie. That’s not what I want. I’d be concerned if you did.” She brings a hand to his chest, the tips of her fingers cool against his skin as they poke inside his pajama top. “She will always be an important part of your life. You were married for nearly two decades, and she is the mother of your  _ child.  _ Please,  _ don’t  _ forget her.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“No!” she exclaims. “I’m not threatened by her existence, Gabriel. She represents a past part of your life, a crucial part of your life that led me to you. I know you’re with me. It’s not unfaithful for you to acknowledge that part of your life, and you don’t have to prove yourself to me anymore.” She squeezes his hand. “Go. Be with Adrien. He needs this, and so do you.”

“I love you so much,” he tells her anyway, feeling that urgent need to remind her. He gives her a kiss. “I don’t deserve you.”

“If anything, it’s the other way around,” she says. He begins to protest, but she cuts him off with, “ _ Go  _ already. He’s waiting for you.”

So he leaves to join Adrien in the basement repository, marveling at how the plants have grown and butterflies multiplied in the months that he has left it to nature. Adrien sits down by Emilie’s headstone, and he looks up at Gabriel with a sorrowful smile when he approaches and lays a hand on his shoulder.

A silent invitation is given to sit. The underground sanctuary still has a feeling of magic in it, something almost dangerous, but in an ancient, unearthly way. The words between Gabriel and Adrien remain unspoken, and their visit is carried out without any verbal interaction at all, as if breaking the electric stillness of the air could shatter the entire space around them. Quiet tears are shed, but they aren’t as bitter and heart wrenching as the ones that had come immediately after Emilie’s death. The tears are the result of build up over months, and the release of grief from their stores is gentle and cathartic.

After some time, Gabriel and Adrien return to the main floor, up from that ethereal liminal space, back into the land of the living without a word exchanged between them. However, there is an undeniable sense of peace after the release of tension that Gabriel hadn’t even realized was there. Back above, he feels like he can breathe again.

The rest of Christmas Day is rather lowkey, with a dinner that is rich, but toned down from the usual holiday feast. Later in the evening, they do a small gift exchange with each other, and Marinette stops by briefly to wish them a Merry Christmas, and to exchange presents with Adrien. Gabriel and Nathalie give them some privacy to talk, and Gabriel pretends not to notice when he accidentally catches them kissing passionately in the front doorway as Marinette is leaving.

Just like that, Christmas is over. There is no tree to take down this year, nor are there decorations outside. Life moves on without much fanfare, and the next few days pass without anything to note them as remarkable.

A few days later, Nathalie and Gabriel go to the next prenatal appointment together, and they are just as relieved as always to hear that the pregnancy is progressing as expected, the baby meeting all benchmarks. They come home with an updated sonogram, a grainy black and white image that still manages to make Gabriel go teary-eyed.

As they return home, Nathalie brings a hand to her lower back, a sure sign of back pain, which Gabriel can spot from a mile away by now. He wraps an arm around her waist to bring her close enough for a kiss to the delicate skin of her temple. “Go lie down,” he says. “Get off your feet.”

“I’m fine,” she tells him with a sigh, but her tone is colored with good humor and faux exasperation.

“Yes, you are. Very fine indeed.”

“Gabriel!”

He smiles at her, unable to resist the twinkle in her eyes. “Please?”

She takes a slow breath in, rolling her neck with a few audible crackles. “Only because you’ve stooped to flattery. And because I haven’t turned on the TV in ages. I could use some mindless entertainment.”

“Living room?” he asks, and she nods in response. “Lunch? You must be hungry by now.”

“Starving. Oh, but not in front of the television.”

“Special occasion,” he excuses. She clicks her tongue in disapproval, but doesn’t protest, drawn in by the temptation. He squeezes his fingers around her side before letting her go. “I’ll bring it in.”

Gabriel splits off into the kitchen and waves the staff aside, having no patience to wait for the preparation of an elaborate meal this late. He splits open a baguette, makes some quick sandwiches for Nathalie and himself, and carries the plates to the living room.

He shakes his head fondly as he approaches the room, seeing that Nathalie is standing, clearly disregarding his attempt to get her to rest. But as he draws closer, an odd chill creeps up the back of his neck. He nearly drops the plates as he sees how stiff her posture is, and how her face has turned stark white.

He runs the rest of the way, practically throwing their dishes on the table with a loud clatter before turning back towards her and cupping her face.  _ “Mon Dieu,  _ Nathalie; you look like a ghost,” he exclaims. At the very least, her temperature is normal under his palms, as he’d instinctively worried that the old symptoms of the broken miraculous had returned. “Sit down before you collapse,” he orders, trying to seat her on the couch, but to his surprise, she resists him.

“Gabriel, look,” she whispers, nudging him to turn around. He reluctantly does so, catching sight of what looks like news footage pulled up on the television.

“What?” At first, he isn’t sure what he is looking at. The current image is an aerial shot, showing a clump of buildings somewhere in the city. As the camera zooms in, he catches sight of smoke. “A fire? Where?”

“Not a normal fire,” she gasps. “No, it’s—”

The shot changes. He nearly jumps back as the image abruptly switches to a raging creature, something that he would have thought only possible in movies if he hadn’t been foolish enough to create similar ones himself. This…  _ being  _ is gigantic, made of an oozing, tar-like substance topped with bright orange flames, floating around it like a bushy, wild mane. It glares into the camera and roars, fire bursting out of its enraged, haunting eyes. 

Gabriel realizes what is going to happen a second too late. “No!” he yells, instinctively reaching for the TV as a hot burst of light rushes forward.

The image freezes as the flames totally take over, and after a moment, it cuts back to the studio, showing Nadja Chamack, stunned speechless and on the verge of tears. “Aimie? Are you there? Aimie?” She jumps, startled, and listens to a message coming through on her earpiece. She nods, barely holding back her emotions. “As you can see from the footage, this creature, presumed to be an akuma or sentimonster, is extremely dangerous — far beyond what Paris is used to. The confirmed death toll is twenty-three so far, but — but,” she stammers, voice wavering, “it is suspected to be far more, as the story is still developing. So far, there has been no word from either of Paris’s villains, and we are all grappling to figure out —”

The television shuts off. Nathalie holds the remote in a vice-like grip, despite her shaking hand, and Gabriel has to pry her fingers open to take it from her. He sets it down on the table and guides her to sit. She grabs the front of his shirt, and he joins her on the couch, wrapping his body protectively around her. Nathalie buries her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing silently.

She finally speaks minutes later, voice cracked and raw. “Tell me were never this violent.”

Gabriel draws in a sharp breath. There are many things he regrets, and the memories flood into him now. But for all his mistakes, he knows that the villains Papillon and Mayura created were never as horrible as this. “No. We weren’t.”

“Are you sure? You’re not only saying it to—”

“I’m sure. This is… another league entirely.”

They sit in uneasy silence. Nathalie’s fingers curl around his arm, digging quarter moons into the skin with uncareful nails. “The new Peacock — they  _ want  _ people to be hurt.”

Gabriel nods. He nearly voices that the appearance of the new villain confirms the worst of their fears, but he doesn’t have the heart to say so.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional TW: Implied temporary death of background character.
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What do expect from this new villain?


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lava sentimonster continues to wreak havoc on Paris. Nathalie and Gabriel fear for the young heroes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional trigger warnings in end note!

🦋

Gabriel paces, praying silently that Adrien will pick up the phone. He walks the length of the living room, waiting as it rings.

He catches sight of Nathalie as he turns back, sitting forward on the edge of the couch, legs spread apart to accommodate her growing midsection. Her hand traces quick circles over her belly, and she stares at him intently, waiting for any news.

To Gabriel’s dismay, the phone goes to Adrien’s voicemail, confirming that he has either been caught up in the attack or he has already transformed into Chat Noir. Gabriel hangs up without leaving a message, knowing that it won’t matter at this stage. “Turn the news back on,” he says, lowering the phone.

Nathalie leans forward as best as she can and manages to slide the remote close enough to pick up. “He didn’t answer?” she asks as she turns the television on once more. The news is showing helicopter footage again, which is likely the  _ only  _ footage that can be gathered safely.

He shakes his head. “I’m hoping we’ll catch sight of Chat Noir soon. Not that I want him anywhere near that mess, but at least then we would know that he’s unscathed…”

Her head drops with a dry sob, and she resumes the motions of her hand over her belly.

Gabriel jumps to worry. He catches her hand with his own. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

She lays her other hand over his. “No, I’m sorry for worrying you. It’s become an anxious habit.” Gabriel feels a strong kick against the edge of his thumb. She breathes in sharply. “And the baby is squirming around a lot. I think my stress is contagious.”

He cups her neck gently and brushes both his thumbs over her tense collarbone, which is raised with her shoulders and curled forward in anticipation. “You’re not helping yourself like this. Sit back; being on edge won’t solve anything.”

Grabbing a pillow, he places it behind her back and helps her recline into a more restful posture. Her hands curl into fists, but he figures that is a fair trade for the relaxation of the rest of her body. He brings his hand up to her belly and continues the circular motion, but at a much slower, more soothing pace than she had been moving at.

“Better?”

She only lets out a shaky breath, eyes trained to the TV screen. Gabriel’s eyes follow, watching the scenes for any sign of his son.

The helicopter footage is the only professional footage shown now, broken up with commentary by a very shaken, pale Nadja Chamack. However, there are amateur clips interspersed throughout, sent in by viewers of the station, depicting harrowing experiences of near misses. In one clip, taken from the window of an apartment, the fire beast turns its head toward the camera, draws in a breath to scorch the building with, and only spares the filmer due to being distracted by sirens down the road.

The news station cuts to another stream, this one taken from behind the monster. A familiar logo is situated in the corner. “Oh no,” Nathalie exclaims. “That’s Adrien’s friend, isn’t it?”

“Yes, the Ladyblog girl. Alya,” he says.

Nathalie turns her face away. “I can’t watch. I feel sick.”

Gabriel grabs her hand with his free hand. “She’ll be okay,” he assures her, attempting to convince himself as well. “She’s keeping her distance.”

But for all the distance kept, the creature is unpredictable. A few minutes into the stream, it whirls around, facing Alya.  _ “Zut,”  _ the young girl whispers, turning to the side and running down the alleyway. “I’ll be back in a minute.” The stream ends after a few jostled strides, catching a red blur before it cuts out.

Nathalie springs herself up straight at the sight. “Was that Ladybug?”

Gabriel’s heart is pounding. “It looked like it; yes.”

“Where’s Adrien?” Nathalie demands. “Did you see Chat?”

“No,” Gabriel tells her, starting to feel nauseous himself. “I did not.”

“And Alya…”

“I’m not sure.”

They continue to watch in silence, desperate for something other than the updated death count by Nadja. With the Ladyblog no longer streaming, all that is available for a few minutes are replays of older clips and live helicopter footage, which becomes less useful with every passing second as smoke fills up the frame, obscuring the view below.

Both Gabriel and Nathalie breathe a sigh of relief when the Ladyblog logo pops up again on the bottom of the screen. “Sorry about that, folks,” Alya whispers.

She has found a new vantage point, this time a safer distance away. It isn’t quite as easy to see the creature, but it is still better than the smokey helicopter footage.

Ladybug hops in and out of frame. Gabriel and Nathalie both hold their breath, looking for the figure they are still desperate to see.

There is a flash of black leather on the other side of the creature. Gabriel and Nathalie grapple for each other’s hands, waiting for a better look.

Finally, Chat Noir darts around to the other side of the creature, standing together with Ladybug. “That’s him!” Nathalie exclaims. Her hand flies up to her heart. “Oh. Oh, thank God.”

“He’s okay,” Gabriel breathes, squeezing her other hand. He hopes that that remains the case.

It is chilling to watch Chat and Ladybug in action. Partially because Gabriel has had very little experience watching them battle while knowing their identities, and partially because this creature is so beyond dangerous from anything they’ve ever faced before.

Papillon had made mistakes. There had been akumas that hurt people, akumas that made people disappear, even if they weren’t technically “killed.” The akuma protocols in place had helped to prevent casualties on most occasions, but Gabriel is still haunted by the knowledge that four individuals drowned at Syren’s hand, even though the Ladybug cure brought them back less than an hour later.

After the initial crush of defeat, Gabriel had always regretted these akumas. It wouldn’t happen immediately, as his anger and desperation would fuel a bad mood the rest of the day. But once the sun had set and the stars emerged, he would find himself unable to fall asleep, kept awake by images of his victims. Only then, in the wee hours of the morning, would he push aside his pride and silently thank the heavens that the heroes had defeated him that time.

Even then, he had never created something like this.  _ This  _ is horrific.

Gabriel can tell that there is a different atmosphere on the other side of the screen, as well. The heroes have reached a certain level of familiarity with their responsibilities that they typically feel comfortable enough to almost enjoy the battle, engaging in banter and silliness, and all in all, allowing themselves to be kids.

Not today.

Chat Noir is dead silent, not cracking a single joke or even flirting with Ladybug. He is focused and on edge, clearly worried for both of their safety as they battle the hellish sentimonster. Both of the heroes are on their toes, working hard to dodge the creature’s brutal attacks. They are making little headway in defeating it, spending much more time trying to avoid getting hit than making any progress.

In some ways, Gabriel is glad they are taking their defensive positions so seriously. But he knows that they can’t keep it up forever.

Ladybug apparently knows this too. She takes a moment to give instructions to Chat Noir, which are inaudible from Alya’s distant position, but it is clearly an order to attack. Both heroes rush at the creature, weapons raised.

They do a good job in avoiding the flames, but the attacks don’t seem to do much to hurt the creature. The black flesh underneath its fire is solid, like hardened lava, and the weak points are few and far between. At one point, Ladybug is able to hit a crack in the monster’s skin, creating a shower of sparks, but she is unable to repeat the tactic, as the monster becomes even more aggressive.

Chat Noir attempts to attack with his baton. Nathalie shrieks as the creature turns its head and shoots a lick of flames at him. Chat Noir manages to jump aside, avoiding the brunt of the blast, but his left arm is set ablaze, and Ladybug quickly tackles him to the ground to put it out.

“Adrien,” Gabriel whispers. His hands shake inside Nathalie’s until Ladybug pulls Chat Noir to his feet and releases him, proving that he can still stand on his own. He cradles his arm, which Gabriel is unable to see properly from so far away, but is clearly injured.

Ladybug yells something at him, too muffled to make out. Chat argues back a little, but when another blast of fire separates them, he seems to acquiesce, turning around and running down the street. He quickly grows in Alya’s frame, and Gabriel’s horror grows as he sees the details of his arm — charred remains of leather, some of it melted into the angry red blisters on his skin, signifying a serious burn.

“Chat,” Alya exclaims, “are you okay?”

He grits his teeth in a poor imitation of a grin, the pain evident on his face. “Yeah, don’t worry. It’ll take more than a little heat to keep this cool cat down.”

Gabriel can practically hear the grimace in Alya’s voice. “Are you sure?”

Chat’s strained smile drops. “I’ll be fine. Ladybug asked me to clear this street though. Can you—?”

“Yeah,” she says immediately, and the fact that the famously stubborn Ladyblogger is so willing to accept instruction is just another factor for Gabriel to worry about. “Let me help.”

The stream ends once more, cutting right back to the studio, where Nadja gives another sobering update. “Fifty-two now confirmed dead, and forty confirmed injuries, including Chat Noir now, with many more people still unaccounted for.”

Nathalie lets out a sob, her face already soaked with tears. Gabriel has no words to comfort her. He only hands her a tissue and rubs her back gently. Helicopter footage airs again, showing just a peek of reddened skyline, obscured almost entirely by smoke.

Minutes go by without news. It seems all sources have evacuated the area, and even the Ladyblog stays offline. The only updates involve a growing death toll. Nadja Chamack looks closer to collapse every time she comes on screen.

Gabriel can hardly believe his eyes when a flurry of pink sparkles brushes across the camera, restoring the city to its previous state. The burning ceases, the smoke clears, and the horrible sentimonster disappears.

Ladybug and Chat Noir are nowhere to be seen, not exactly a surprise since the object would have to be tracked down in order to defeat it, but still a worrying sight. Gabriel instantly whips out his phone and tries to call Adrien.

He rings through to voicemail again, but on his second attempt to call, Adrien finally picks up. “Dad.” His voice is quiet and strained.

“I saw everything,” Gabriel cries. “Are you okay? Did the cure—?”

“I’m fine,” Adrien says quickly. “My arm is okay. Some ghost pain, but that’s all.”

“Come home. Please,” he adds. “We need—”

“Marinette and I are already on our way,” Adrien assures him. He pauses, adding softly, “How is Nathalie? Is she okay?”

Gabriel glances at his partner, heart aching as she continues to cry steadily into her hands. “Upset, but I think she’ll be alright. It will help once she sees you.”

“We’ll try to be there soon,” Adrien says. “I gotta go, okay?”

“Come home safe.”

Adrien hangs up, and Gabriel lowers his phone. Nathalie is still crying, and he pulls a hand away from her face to grasp it in his own. “He’s alright. They both are on their way here.”

“His arm,” she hiccups.

“Healed,” he tells her, though he has to admit that it will be nagging at him too, until he sees it for himself.

Nathalie trembles, hugging herself.

“You need to eat,” Gabriel tells her. “I think you’ll feel better with some more strength in you.” He retrieves their forgotten sandwiches and passes one to her. She accepts it, but her bites are tiny and hesitant, hardly taking any food in. She leaves half of it on her plate, unable to finish.

After what feels like an eternity, the front door opens, and Gabriel can’t stop Nathalie from springing up out of her seat. He catches her as she tips off balance, trailing carefully behind as she hurries into the foyer. 

Nathalie gets to his son before he does, hugging him with protective ferocity, and checking him over for wounds. Realizing that it will be a minute before he can get to Adrien, Gabriel makes his way to Marinette, standing soberly aside.

“Are you alright?” he asks, laying a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

She breathes in sharply. “No broken bones.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re unharmed, but that’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” she says, turning her attention to watch Adrien and Nathalie as she continues to fuss over him. Gabriel drops his hand from her shoulders. “I don’t think any of us are really alright.”

“No,” he agrees. “We are not.”

Adrien manages to calm Nathalie and worm himself out of her grasp, only for Gabriel to take over. He quickly draws Adrien to his chest, cupping the back of his head and holding him almost like an infant, or as much as he can with his son being a teenager.

“Dad,” Adrien protests, muffled. Gabriel tries not to squeeze too tight, but his arms instinctively want to lock in, keeping Adrien safe from any harm indefinitely.

He finally lets go, but only so he can take a step back and examine Adrien for injuries. He instantly reaches for the arm, and despite the skin looking just as unmarked as the rest of him, Adrien winces and almost tries to pull away.

“Does it still hurt?” Gabriel demands.

Adrien shakes his head. “No, but I keep expecting it to.”

With his main concern out of the way, Gabriel’s focus shifts to a darker worry. “The deaths.” His eyes flicker between Adrien and Marinette, who is still being doted on by Nathalie. “Did the cure bring them back?”

Marinette nods. “Yes. Not for the first time, remember.”

Gabriel winces. “I know. But it’s never been a sentimonster. I wasn’t sure.”

Adrien rubs his palms on his jeans, looking at the ground. “A lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Marinette says. “I think we need to sit down and reevaluate… well,  _ everything.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional TW: Temporary background character deaths, burn injury
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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Are you surprised by the damage of the new villain?


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New villain, new plan.

🦋

The discussions regarding the new Peacock villain extend into the evening and late at night, despite the lack of information to go on. But for all that the four of them try to make headway in solving the mystery, it seems that they are talking in circles.

It is almost as if they have too much information, obscuring the important details from them. From such a long attack, one would think that there would be more of value, but all Gabriel can come up with is morbid, useless trivia. Number of injuries. Number of deaths. It doesn’t help that so far, the new Peacock villain has not even been sighted. All the news sources are completely useless, as well, referring to either Mayura or Panoptes as the assumed attacker. They all ponder the wrong question: why the Butterfly hadn’t made an appearance as well, though the four people gathered at this table know the answer.

It is clear that Paris is in chaos over the attacks. At this point it has been several months since a supervillain attacked, and for the most part, civilians are in panicked disarray, wondering why Paris’s villains have chosen now, of all times, to resurface. It is maddening to be on the inside and to not be able to clear up public misconceptions regarding the attack, but to do so would put identities at stake and possibly turn public opinion against the heroes. All in all, it’s not a risk worth taking at this point, as tempting as it is.

Without even a sighting, however, the speculation of the new villain’s identity doesn’t go much of anywhere, falling close to pure guesswork. As the hours drag on, tempers start to flare, and Gabriel finally suggests that they all go to bed and resume discussion in the morning. Since it’s so late, Marinette is invited to stay the night, put in a guest room close to Adrien’s room.

They all turn in for the night, hoping that sleep will reset them and help them make more progress. The morning doesn’t bring much better luck, however, starting off with more bickering.

“There’s simply not enough to go on,” Nathalie cuts them off after they’ve been talking in circles again at the breakfast table. “We’re wasting our time here trying to guess an identity. What we should be talking about is your game plan going forward. This villain is  _ dangerous.  _ The normal routine isn’t enough.”

The heroes nearly hit back with arguments of their own, but after they fully absorb her words, they turn, shrugging at each other. “We’re not getting anywhere with this approach,” Marinette admits. “It would be a good idea to at least have a plan going forward. We knew this mystery wouldn’t be solved in a day, so we’ll have to figure out what to do in the meantime.”

“More heroes,” Adrien suggests.

“That’s what I’m thinking too,” Marinette says. “Strength in numbers, but also powers. Think of how useful the Dragon would have been yesterday.”

“Someone to put out fires, metaphorically and on occasion, literally,” Gabriel muses.

Nathalie seems to shrink further into herself, ignoring the breakfast in front of her.

Gabriel frowns, but Adrien is quicker to address her sullen mood. “What is it Nathalie? Do you think that’s not the right approach?”

She smiles at him sadly. “I don’t think I’ll be much help in strategizing here. To be entirely honest, I would take you out of the fight if it were in my power.” Her eyes drop to her plate. “I worry about you. Both of you. More and more, I can’t bear the thought of you risking your lives, even if I’ve been the cause of that many times myself.”

Gabriel reaches out to grab her hand. “I feel the same way, dear. But even if they were willing to give up their miraculous, they can’t now. This new villain calls for heroes who have been tried and tested. A new Ladybug and Chat Noir would get eaten alive, wouldn’t they?”

Ladybug grimaces. “I can’t imagine it would end well.”

“And it’s more than that,” he continues. “They’ve grown into these roles and, might I say, quite admirably. It’s their duty now. It would be torture for them to walk away.”

Nathalie’s eyes burn. “You make it sound like you want them to continue.”

“Certainly not,” Gabriel says. “But I understand. It would tear them apart to turn their backs now. I can’t pretend that it’s a viable option.”

“It’s true, Nathalie,” Adrien tells her. “I know this job is dangerous, but giving up Chat Noir would be a definite death sentence for me. I couldn’t just stop. I’ll always need to be a part of the action.”

“He couldn’t bear to part from me,” Plagg pipes up, from behind his large meal of camembert. “My little kitten would be lost without my sage guidance.”

Adrien laughs, and the solemn mood at the table is lifted slightly. He reaches over to scratch Plagg’s head, and though the kwami makes an exasperated face, Gabriel thinks he can hear slight purring.

“Of course,” Adrien says. “I’d be devastated to lose this stinky cheese hoarder—”

“—I take that as a compliment—”

“—But even the principle of it is out of the question. This is our fight. Paris needs us.”

Nathalie is silent, shaking slightly in her chair. Gabriel sighs. “No matter what, we’ll both be mad with worry every time an akuma surfaces, but I wouldn’t dream of putting that kind of control over you, not after everything we’ve been through. Your choices are your own, and I know you will both choose to continue with this responsibility.” He lays down his fork and knife and leans back, contemplating the situation. “More heroes as your allies would ease my mind somewhat. Especially since a sentimonster is extra demanding, worse than an akuma in my view. I’ll still be anxious, but your safety would be better looked after with greater numbers.”

Nathalie closes her eyes with a pained expression and nods. “I hate every bit of this, but I will admit that more backup would help slightly.”

“I don’t expect you to share identities, but may I ask if you have allies you are considering?”

Marinette’s brow furrows as she thinks. “We have our usual team that we try to go to, plus a few others. But we may need to expand and find holders for the last few miraculous. I think this might be an all hands on deck situation.”

“A wise move,” Gabriel says. “It seems you could use all the help you can get. Let’s see.” He runs a hand through his messy hair, still ungroomed. “Rena Rouge and Queen Bee are frequent allies, are they not?” Marinette and Adrien share a quick, uneasy glance, which doesn’t escape Gabriel’s notice. “What?”

Adrien winces. “As much as I hate to say it, Chloé has been… unreliable lately.”

“A little more than unreliable,” Marinette grumbles.

Adrien grimaces again. “Okay, more like unbearable.” He turns to his girlfriend. “I’m sorry; I’m trying really hard to not make excuses for her. It’s a hard habit to break.”

“I know, Adrien,” Marinette says. “I’m not mad. But for our own sakes, we have to be honest about how problematic she’s been. We can’t trust her.”

“What is Miss Bourgeois up to now?” Gabriel questions.

Marinette grits her teeth. “I hope this doesn’t come across as self-involved, but I believe that Adrien’s and my relationship bothers her. She’s been a lot more nasty ever since we publicly revealed we were dating. I think she’s… jealous?” Her shoulders raise up around her ears, as if she is apologizing for what she has just said.

“She is,” Adrien confirms. “You don’t have to double-guess yourself on that. She’s even trying to flirt with me again.”

Gabriel looks at Adrien sharply. “And you indulge this?”

“No!” he exclaims. He then winces. “I might have tried to let it go in the past. But I’m trying to be better now. It would be disrespectful to Marinette to let it happen. But even though I don’t enable the behavior, it’s hard to get rid of the hope that Chloé could be a good person. We’ve been friends for so long, and I want to believe the best in her, but she’s making it harder and harder to do so.”

“You’ve been good about it,” Marinette reassures him. “I’m not trying to break up the friendship either. I just want some basic respect.” She shakes her head. “But that’s far from our main concern right now. What it comes down to is that Chloé’s morality has always been shaky, and at the very least, she’s being challenged right now. It’s not the right time to add a miraculous back in the mix.”

Gabriel relaxes slightly. “That’s probably for the best.”

“Who else, then?” Nathalie asks. “I know you’ve used others. There’s Viperion, Ryuko…”

“Pegase,” Gabriel supplies. “Usually. That particular miraculous has obviously changed hands several times.”

“Isn’t there a bearer for the Rabbit miraculous too?” Nathalie asks.

“Kind of,” Adrien says. “In the future. We haven’t given it yet though.”

“But maybe it’ll be time now,” Marinette suggests. “We’ll have to think about it. It’s a huge responsibility; more so than the other miraculous. In the wrong hands, it could be disastrous.”

“We also have Roi Singe,” Adrien adds. “Someone like that could be very useful in bringing down a dangerous sentimonster.”

Marinette nods before turning to Gabriel. “And we have you. You’re a miraculous holder.”

It is as if Gabriel’s limbs have turned to lead, and his jaw has rusted shut. He blinks at Marinette in surprise and growing horror, unable to protest even though the thought chills him.

Luckily Nathalie can speak for him. “No,” she exclaims. “Are you insane? Absolutely not.”

Gabriel reaches out to calm her, taking note of how she trembles. He finally finds himself able to speak. “It’s alright, dear.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is,” he insists. “Because I won’t do it.” He turns his eyes to Marinette and Adrien, trying to soften his features to minimize the blow of the rejection. “I’m sorry, but I won’t.”

“Why—?”

“We have a baby on the way,” he says plainly. “I can’t do that to Nathalie. I need to be here for her.”

The teens droop in disappointment, but Adrien says, “I understand. God forbid if something happened to us  _ both.” _

“Precisely,” Gabriel says, even though guilt weighs him down.

Adrien screws his mouth to the side, thinking, before letting out a cleansing breath. “You know? That’s probably for the best. In some ways, I feel better about having you here, out of harm’s way. I can’t help but be protective.”

“It’s a father’s job to be protective of his son,” Gabriel says, stomach giving an uncomfortable lurch. “Not the other way around. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place here, Adrien. I want to help, but—”

Adrien’s voice is gentle and encouraging. “Don’t apologize, Dad. I know you care. I know you want to keep me safe. But I’m almost an adult. You have to look after my little sibling, and you know? That's what I want too.”

Marinette seems less pleased. “I respect your decision, Mister Agreste, but I hope that you’ll reconsider at some point.”

Gabriel nods, acknowledging her, but not agreeing. “Now, what other tools are at your disposal?” he asks, swiftly changing the subject. “Whether I pick up the mantle or not, one of my previous miraculous could go to other holders in the meantime. Though in the case of the Butterfly, I could see how its complicated history could create a barrier for you in giving it to another holder.”

“I think we’ll hold off on that one,” Marinette says hastily. “There are too many negative conceptions with the public, and it requires a special kind of holder.”

“Not to mention questions from the public that would be difficult to answer,” Adrien adds.

“But we do have others that aren’t permanently assigned, like the Dog, the Ox, the Goat, the Rooster, and the Pig.”

“Have you thought to give one of those to the previous holder of the Turtle?” Nathalie suggests.

Both Adrien and Marinette perk up in surprise. “That’s a good idea,” Adrien says. “We’d definitely like to keep him on the team.” He slumps a bit, eyes flickering across the table in thought. “He loved Wayzz. This will be hard on him.”

Marinette squeezes his arm. “It will. But I think he’ll be better off being involved than to be left out because his miraculous is gone. If anything, I think he’ll be all the more determined to get Wayzz back.”

Adrien nods. “You’re right. He’s not going to be content standing off to the sidelines, so we’d better get thinking about what would be a good fit for him.”

At that point, Marinette’s phone alarm goes off.  _ “Zut!”  _ she exclaims. “I’d better get home now, or I won’t have time to shower and change before school.” She springs out of her chair and gathers up her bag, though she does take a moment to turn back to Gabriel and Nathalie. “Thank you for allowing me over. And, you know, giving us so much guidance. It really does help.”

“Of course, Marinette,” Nathalie says warmly, and Gabriel is relieved that there is no remaining tension there from Marinette’s suggestion that Gabriel rejoin the heroes.

He hates to admit it, but the thought sits heavy in the back of his mind, tempting him. Shouldn’t he join in the fight? This is partially his responsibility.

_ No,  _ he tells himself,  _ it’s your ego talking. You want to prove yourself, but this isn’t the moment. Do what’s best for your family. _

There is plenty he can do from the sidelines. 

He won’t join the fight. He can’t.

The itch persists anyway.

  
  


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Is this new approach going to work? Is Gabriel anxious for nothing?


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentimonster attacks continue. Suspicions arise. Trouble brews.

_Analyze, overanalyze._

🦋

The new year begins, but Paris isn’t in the right mind to celebrate. People are wary after the first sentimonster attack only days before, deciding to shut themselves in and mitigate risk.

For Gabriel, New Year’s Eve has been a lowkey affair ever since Emilie fell ill, but even in the Agreste household, the atmosphere has shifted this year. Adrien spends the night at Marinette’s apartment with a few friends, and although Gabriel has a quiet, mellow evening with Nathalie, they try, and fail, to put the city’s troubles out of mind. The tension is unspoken, resting heavily between them, but neither being willing to part their lips and reveal how scared they truly are.

The waiting game is by far the worst, but it is the one they are playing. The new Peacock villain goes suspiciously silent after their first defeat, not making a resurgence at all in the week of their debut. It feels as if time has stopped, as if the hands of the clock were stalled in their places, waiting for the next attack to pull them back into gear.

But life progresses nonetheless. Nathalie is now seven months pregnant, and looking every bit of it. Preparations for the baby continue, even though everything is so bittersweet now, soured by the reality of what kind of danger their child will live in.

The relationship between Nathalie and Raimunde begins to patch up as well, however, which Gabriel hadn’t expected with the first sentimonster attack in months. In fact, Raimunde had seemed to shrink away at first, a sign that she was still convinced of Gabriel’s guilt, but after about a week of silence, she had finally answered Nathalie’s previous text.

Soon, the possibility of another visit seems to arise, though Nathalie is conflicted. “It feels like a bad idea,” she frets late one night, after they are already lying together in bed. “Doesn’t it?”

“What do we have to lose at this point?” Gabriel asks her. “Her opinion of me can’t sink lower, unless you’re afraid that she will accuse you as well. I must say, however, as cautious as I am, I don’t expect that from her. She seems certain of your innocence, and if she was anything less than that, I’d have reservations of my own.”

“No, I’m not worried about that. I don’t know _what _I’m worried about.” She lets out a frustrated gust of air. “Maybe it’s because I’m still upset at her_. _I want this to be an easy fix, but it’s simply not possible.”

“You don’t have to be upset on my behalf.” Gabriel runs a soothing hand through her hair. “Besides, I believe this actually would strengthen our case.”

He sees Nathalie narrowing her eyes at him, even in the dim, moonlit room. “How?”

“If she begins to see us again, there’s a significant chance that she will be in our company during a sentimonster attack. We’ll both have alibis.”

“But the Butterfly won’t make an appearance,” Nathalie murmurs back. “Won’t she still wonder about that?”

“Almost certainly,” he agrees. “But at least it will introduce doubt to her convictions.”

They drift off to sleep without a decision reached between them, but the next morning, Gabriel finds Nathalie on her phone, sending an invitation. It does, however, come with the stipulation that they won’t discuss the topic that was broached last time. From what Gabriel can determine in terms of tone over text, Raimunde is reluctant, but willing to do it for Nathalie’s sake.

Gabriel makes it his job to behave as normally as possible. When Raimunde arrives, he greets her warmly and attempts to make pleasant conversation. The visit is uneventful, but there is tension beneath the surface. Nobody acknowledges it, but it doesn’t go away either. If anything, it grows between them, threatening to pop until Raimunde finally gets up to leave.

The entire visit passes without the appearance of a sentimonster. But although it means that an alibi will have to wait for another day, it is also one more day that has passed in which the young heroes don’t have to face untold danger. That is always a win in Gabriel’s eyes.

Nathalie is tired afterwards, and Gabriel asks her to sit down in the foyer, where she has just said her goodbyes. She collapses heavily into a chair, and he pulls up another for her to rest her feet on.

He lifts a hand from her armrest and begins to massage gently. “How do you feel? You seem exhausted.”

“I am,” she admits. “Even though we didn’t discuss it, it’s still there, hanging over us. I don’t know how we overcome this.”

Gabriel screws his mouth to the side in thought, but he is interrupted by the buzzing of his phone.

“Adrien,” he answers. “Why are you calling during school hours?”

“Sentimonster,” Adrien gasps, and Gabriel’s blood runs cold. “Have you seen the news?” His voice is broken up by heavy breathing, as if he is running.

“No,” Gabriel says. Nathalie looks up in concern, clearly having guessed by now that something is off. “Where are you? Are you hidden?”

Adrien lets out a breathy laugh. “I am right now, but I won’t be for long. I’m about to transform and join Marinette.”

Gabriel closes his eyes, fighting the urge to tell Adrien to stay away from the fight that he knows he must be a part of. “Stay safe,” he orders instead. “Call me when it’s over.”

“Of course,” Adrien says before hanging up.

“Love you,” Gabriel says to the ended call. He shakes his head and turns to Nathalie, who is waiting for answers.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” she asks. He nods, taking the hand that she reaches out to him in search for support. 

She squeezes his fingers and rubs her face with her other hand, sighing shakily. “Let’s go turn on the news.”

He helps her up, but asks nonetheless, “Are you sure you want to worry yourself like that?”

“I’ll worry either way,” she responds. They walk solemnly together towards the living room. “If this had to happen, couldn’t it have at least been ten minutes sooner?” she mutters. “At least then Raimunde would know that you don’t have the Peacock miraculous.”

This battle is easier, but longer than the previous one, and Adrien comes home to them safely once more. They thank their lucky stars, and they thank them again after each subsequent sentimonster attack. 

The fear and dread doesn’t go away over the following days. The sentimonster attacks are erratic, sometimes nearing the violence of the first creature, and sometimes much more subtle, stumping the heroes for hours. The superhero team seems to struggle more and more with the burden, reminding Gabriel that they are only tired, scared children under the masks. More and more, he finds himself wanting to jump to action, but he simply can’t do that to Nathalie. He looks at the fear in her eyes every time Adrien is in harm’s way and knows that she would be twice as distressed to be worrying over the two of them.

For reasons unknown, the Turtle miraculous stays hidden.

In spite of that, the heroes don’t wait to build up their team. The number of heroes grows, but so do the lengths of their battles as the new Peacock gains their footing. Even with Rena Rouge, Ryuko, Viperion, Roi Singe, Pegase, and the new Dog hero Chien Bringé — formerly known as Carapace — it is hard to track down a sentimonster’s object, especially since most of them are not on the sentimonster’s person. The objects are found everywhere from schools, to homes, to prisons. Some feed off emotions from some willing participants, and some feed off of victims who have no idea they have harbored an amok at all.

The villain can’t seem to decide on their approach. Some sentimonsters attack with brute force, while others are more cunning. Whatever reason this may be for, it works to the villain’s advantage, as the heroes never quite know what they are going to get when an alert first goes off. Gabriel can tell that they are more frustrated with the villain’s more conniving tactics than violence, since it has the tendency to tie them up for hours in tracking the object down, but he prefers it. He’d rather have them going on a wild goosechase than  _ being  _ chased by a horrifying creature.

He does begin to wonder, however, whether this villain is mentally stable or not. The lack of focus in their attacks raises an eyebrow when the tactics seem to change on a whim.

Additionally, to both Gabriel and Nathalie’s frustration, for all of the sentimonster attacks that occur, none line up with Raimunde’s visits, igniting concern.

“Gabriel, she’s going to start thinking that we’re sending out sentimonsters as soon as she’s out the door,” Nathalie laments when another alert sounds only five minutes after Raimunde’s departure. “We keep missing so closely. It’s going to look suspicious.”

He rubs his face, never quite keeping his eyes off the television screen as they wait for footage to surface of the attack. “It’s a good thing we know that she isn’t the new Peacock,” he jokes, attempting to lighten the mood, but it falls flat. “Otherwise we could have suspicions of our own.”

Nathalie goes quiet beside him. At first, he assumes that she is focused on the news, but after a few moments, it becomes clear to him that she is in a moment of deep thought. A quick glance shows her brow furrowed in concentration, and a frown spreads across her lips.

“What is it?” he asks. His heart skips when she cocks her head in contemplation. “Did that give you an idea about our mystery villain?”

Nathalie digs her nails into the knees of her slacks. “Do we really know? Do we know that she isn’t the Peacock?” she asks.

“No,” he says, taken by surprise. “I suppose not. It does seem unlikely though.”

“Why?” Nathalie demands, standing suddenly. He reaches out to catch her, but she has steadied herself on the arm of the couch already and begun to pace out of reach. “Think about it, Gabriel; she had an unnatural interest in our relationship to the miraculous from the beginning. Could it be because she wanted them for herself? She has come closer to finding them than anyone else I know. It’s not such a stretch that she could have tracked you to the Guardian’s apartment if she was watchful.”

Gabriel shakes his head, unable to fight the nagging feeling that they are barking up the wrong tree. “She was also disgusted by the thought. It was hardly the attitude of someone who wanted the miraculous for themselves.”

“We lied and pretended all the time ourselves,” Nathalie counters. “We gave public support for the heroes and decried our own identities. It was what we had to do to protect our secret, and she’s smart enough to do the same. And her practice as a doctor gives her the perfect alibi. She could fill out paperwork and call in prescriptions while transformed, and nobody would be the wiser.”

“I know I have not known her nearly as long as you,” Gabriel says carefully, “but she simply doesn’t seem the type. She’s… positive. Sweet. Someone with an air of innocence. I can’t imagine someone with such a demeanor causing these tragedies, can you?”

“No,” Nathalie huffs. She drops back onto the couch beside him. “I suppose not. I don’t know what to think. It was a laughable idea.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he responds, rubbing a hand down her back. “It’s worth noting, but don’t jump to conclusions either. Especially not when your friendship is finally on the mend.”

She graces him with the smallest of smiles. “Still, with over two million people living in Paris, I have to admit it’s farfetched that it would be someone we know.”

“A simultaneously amusing and disturbing thought.”

Nathalie looks down, running her fingers along the seam of her pantleg. “Do you ever wonder if it’s someone we ever akumatized?”

He shudders. “I would certainly hope not. Imagine if they ever came looking for revenge.”

A drastic change of image on the television attracts their attention. Gabriel reaches to turn up the volume, eyes barely leaving the screen as he does so.

“Speaking of revenge…” Nathalie whispers, trailing off.

Gabriel can only nod. He can’t imagine that any good will come out of the giant walking guillotine that has shown up on his TV.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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Is Nathalie on the right track?


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A guillotine makes for a dangerous villain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: I usually don't do this at the beginning fo chapters, but this chapter is intense enough that I don't want anyone to miss this. Triggers in this chapter include: temporary death of a supporting character, disturbing violence (though not graphic or detailed).
> 
> I'm sorry for the late chapter. Quarantine has finally caught up to me and sapped my creative spirit.
> 
> Updates will be coming a bit less frequently from now on because I'll be busy writing for the Reverse Bang! Although I've been a bit demotivated with me, I often find that working on a new project helps excite me again. I hope to return reinvigorated for this final stretch of TUTB!

🦋

Gabriel would find the newest sentimonster amusing, if only it were fictional and not a real life threat. As far as danger went, a monster made out of razor sharp blades was about as treacherous of an adversary as one could find, regardless of the awkward appearance.

All that he and Nathalie have to look at so far are a couple of grainy photos, taken from afar. It seems that the major news networks are not as willing as the Ladyblogger to throw themselves into peril for a scoop, and even the young journalist herself had been less than present at the last few battles. Gabriel would put down money that with the new threat of the mysterious Peacock villain, Ladybug and Chat Noir had asked their friend to stay out of the way. The heroes had too much to worry about without fearing for the safety of defenseless civilians.

Truthfully, Gabriel is relieved too. He knows that Adrien would throw himself into the line of fire without a second thought in order to protect his friends. Even if it means that the news is slower to come, a safer battle is a much higher priority.

But regardless of Gabriel’s personal feelings, the quality is clearly lacking, leading to some confusion. “Am I seeing this right?” he asks Nathalie, just to be certain that the baffling impression the sentimonster has made is not just a trick of the eye, worsened by the pixelated image.

“If you’re also seeing a guillotine in human form, covered in revolutionaries’ cockades, then yes.” A crease forms between Nathalie’s brows as she leans forwards. “This makes less and less sense. The last sentimonster evaded capture for days and barely even attacked, and now this is what follows?”

“This one is one of the more violent ones we’ve seen,” Gabriel agrees, catching onto Nathalie’s train of thought. “All the more odd on the heels of such a passive amok.”

“I don’t get it. Are they trying to lull us all into a false sense of security?” She growls, “I hate this. I hate not knowing, and I hate whatever game is being played here.”

Gabriel brushes a reassuring thumb over Nathalie’s knuckles. “They can certainly try, but they won’t succeed in fooling our heroes. Both Adrien and Marinette are more alert than ever.”

“I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not,” she says. “As much as I want them to be prepared, it can’t be good for their long term mental health to always be on edge like this.”

As much as he agrees, there’s not much to be done about that, not until the attacks calm down or the villain is captured. He goes quiet, turning his attention back to the news.

“Sources say that Chien Bringé is the first on the scene,” Nadja Chamack narrates. “As our viewers may remember, Ladybug and Chat Noir have confirmed that he and Carapace are one and the same, but they have not commented on the reasoning for this change. Some have speculated that the Dog miraculous is a better fit for the young hero, resulting in his new identity. Another theory that is circling around, though more far-fetched, is that the Turtle miraculous has been lost, or even stolen.”

“Not that far-fetched at all,” Nathalie mumbles. “They have no idea.”

“I hope for everyone’s sake that the Turtle stays hidden,” Gabriel says. “The last thing any of us needs is another problem on our hands.”

“And who knows how the public would take it?” Nathalie worries. “We’ve put Adrien and Marinette in a no-win situation.”

Nadja cuts back in. “Rena Rouge has joined the battle. Still no live footage, but we’re beginning to receive clearer images. Reports indicate that the sentimonster, Capitaine Décapitant, is incredibly violent, and we advise all viewers to stay indoors.”

“Capitaine Décapitant?” Nathalie exclaims. Her head falls into her hands with a dry sob. “Gabriel, they’ve made a murder monster. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

He finds himself wordless and equally despondent. He grabs her hand and shakes his head, hoping that the battle will be quick. He silently wishes he could jump through the screen to assist.

It seems that a quick battle is not in the cards, however. By the time that some distant video footage emerges over ten minutes later, Chien Bringé and Rena Rogue are still fighting alone, desperately trying to protect civilians as they run for cover. Not for the first time, Nadja reports a death toll, though the damage is thankfully more contained than it was with the fire beast and various others in the past.

For once, Gabriel is grateful for the low quality footage. Even pixelated and out of focus, the various injuries and casualties make his stomach turn as the streets of Paris darken with blood. The lack of sound is eerie, but it’s likely less sickening than what he imagines to be the slicing of metal into human beings.

He’s also not entirely sure that this footage would be allowed on television if it was any clearer, preventing them from watching in real time. As horrifying as it is, he’s desperate to know what is going on at every moment.

“Now I realize how devastating losing the Turtle is. Paris needs protection more than ever,” he says, finally breaking the terrible silence.

“A boomerang is a sad replacement for a shield, even if he wields it well,” Nathalie agrees.

“Hopefully the others arrive soon.”

“At this point, I’m worried something else happened to them,” Nathalie says. “They’re taking so long to get there.”

An anxious knot is curling around in his gut, but he doesn’t want to stress Nathalie further. “Adrien is at fencing,” he reminds himself as much as her. “Marinette is likely in one of her activities, as well, and they have to collect more of their team. I’m sure they’re just on their way.”

Once again, Gabriel feels an odd, conflicted relief as Ladybug finally swoops into frame, leading a small group of heroes behind her to the gruesome scene. Chat Noir is still nowhere to be found but Gabriel forces himself to remain calm. If there was anything wrong, he’d see it written in Ladybug’s actions, but she seems just as on top of her game as ever.

“They must be splitting up again,” Nathalie comments, noticing this detail at the same time. “Adrien and the others are looking for the amok while her group protects civilians. It’s clever…”

“But risky,” he finishes.

She grips his hand a little bit tighter in response.

At the very least, they’re a more formidable team now. With Ladybug, Roi Singe and Ryuko joining in, some burden is taken off of Chien Bringé and Rena Rogue.

Guiltily, Gabriel thinks to himself how fortunate it is that Chat Noir isn’t at the scene of the battle itself, out of harm’s way, unlike the others.

“They’re improving as a team,” Nathalie points out, breaking him out of his shameful thoughts. “Look at how Ladybug is taking the opportunity to observe while the others protect.”

Gabriel turns his eyes to the spotted superheroine. She does seem to be doing less fighting than usual, mostly avoiding the sentimonster and fully exploring their battlefield. It’s clear that she is considering how to use her Lucky Charm while the other heroes keep the villain distracted.

After a few minutes, she pulls Ryuko aside, leaving the rest to continue the battle. “Do you think she’s ready to call for the Lucky Charm already?” Nathalie asks.

Gabriel shakes his head. “I doubt she would use it this early, but she does seem to have a plan.”

Ladybug jumps in to assist the other heroes while Ryuko backs away. The Dragon hero activates her powers, turning herself into a giant tidal wave that knocks Capitaine Décapitant off his feet.

“What are they doing?” Gabriel growls. “That won’t hurt him at all.”

It seems he has spoken too soon, however. “Reports from eyewitnesses are coming in,” Nadja Chamack announces. “Apparently Ryuko’s attack has caused the sentimonster to rust over, disabling some of his weapons! Good job, Ladybug and team!”

“It did something,” Nathalie says, “but look. It only affected the guillotine in the center of his body. His limbs are still free.”

It’s hard to see in its pixelated state, but the orange rust does seem to only coat the middle of the monster’s body. “Then I hope it slows him down at the very least.”

Thankfully, Ladybug is already planning the next attack. She confers with Rena Rouge quickly, dodging an errant blade that wizzes past. The Fox heroine nods, wiping her brow, and raises her flute. Instantly, dozens of copies of herself crop up all around, sending the sentimonster into a confused rage.

Capitaine Décapitant largely ignores the remaining fleeing civilians, allowing the heroes to usher them to safety. Rena Rouge has become the target of his attacks, and he slices his blades through multiple illusions, making a small dent in the multitude of duplicates that have appeared.

Meanwhile, Ladybug has paused again, this time to open her yoyo and raise it to her ear.

“With any hope, that’s Chat Noir on the other end,” Gabriel comments. He taps his finger nervously on his thigh.

“Maybe he’s found the amok.”

Whatever the nature of the call is, Ladybug’s body language doesn’t betray it. She is quick to jump back into action, pulling Roi Singe along with her as she likely details the next part of her plan before the monster can evaporate each distraction.

Gabriel jumps as Nathalie lets out an abrupt scream. “What?” he exclaims, heart pumping rapidly in his chest. Her hand covers her mouth as her wide eyes stare intently at the screen.

“Look in that window!” She points a shaking hand towards a building in the frame.

The combination of the grainy footage, small window, and poor lighting make it difficult to see, but Gabriel takes note of a silhouette in the window, calmly observing the carnage below. His heart starts beating faster, responding to the image quicker than his brain can catch up.

There isn’t much to see, but he knows the figure he is looking at is significant. The only thing that the light catches is a flash of iridescence, not much of a clue as to who this observer could be.

And then he sees it. At the figure’s right side is the telltale silhouette of a familiar fan.

“The Peacock,” he breathes.

Nathalie grips his arm. “It has to be, doesn’t it?”

He nods.

“Ladybug, look up!” Nathalie cries. She digs her fingers in a little deeper. “She doesn't see it, Gabriel. Oh god, what if they attack?”

An anxious breath rattles out of him, but the figure stays still. “They seem content to observe for now, and they themselves have never attacked before.”

“They’ve also never appeared before.”

“Not that we’ve seen,” he admits.

“What if it’s to fight? What if they ambush the heroes?”

“There’s a first time for everything, but—” he stops, a bit of movement catching his eye. “There’s a more dire problem.”

“What?”

“That copy of Rena Rouge isn’t a copy.”

Of all the illusions remaining, Capitaine Décapitant has managed to find the real one, whether he knows it or not. While all of the Rena Rouge copies have put up very little of a fight against the sentimonster, Gabriel immediately notices how this one weaves around, desperately avoiding the knives that fly in her direction. She continues to lose ground, being backed against a wall by the vicious creature.

Thankfully, Ryuko and Chien Bringé are there to divert him. Ryuko swirls around him in a blaze of fire, leaving him to chase her flames, and Chien Bringé manages to dislodge one of his many knives with an expert toss of his boomerang. Rena Rouge takes that moment to edge herself along the wall until she has a clear space to run past him.

Or at least it looks like she has ample room. Gabriel thinks she’s made it, but Capitaine Décapitant whirls around to face her again, slashing a sharp arm across her front.

Nathalie screams again. Gabriel goes rigid.

“Please tell me he missed,” she begs tearfully. “Oh, god.”

He desperately hopes that is the case, but there is something in the way that Rena Rouge has gone still that tells him in his heart that the monster hit his mark.

The heroine drops to her knees. Nathalie gasps. And then Rena Rouge topples entirely.

Nathalie’s hand trembles in Gabriel’s, and he doesn’t know what to say.

Perhaps the greatest blow of all is when intentional pixelation appears over the Fox hero. Censorship. At that moment, they know.

A hero has died.

The silence that had once been slightly unsettling is now bone-chilling. The heroes’ mouths are opened in anguished screams, but nothing comes out, and Gabriel cannot bear to look at them.

Instead, the Peacock villain catches his eye once more. The figure paces back and forth in the window, seemingly ruffled by this turn of events. After a few moments of coming in and out of view, they don’t return to the window.

When Nadja Chamack’s broken, wavering voice cuts back in, it is a strange relief from the stifling, pressing quiet. “Rena Rouge has fallen in battle. Thousands have taken to social media to honor the hero.”

A bar pops up on the bottom of the screen.  _ #RIPRenaRouge and #CapitainDecapitant are trending on Twitter. _

A pained, strangled sound tears from Nathalie’s throat. “Already! It’s so — so… Tasteless.” Her face crumples.

“Witnesses are reporting that Rena Rouge has dropped her transformation, exposing her civilian form,” Nadja continues. “In a show of respect and solidarity, however, witnesses are remaining tight-lipped on her identity.”

Gabriel rubs Nathalie’s back, holding her close. “Do you think the cure can bring her back?” he asks quietly.

A brittle breath shudders out from her. “Somehow I forgot all about that. It should, shouldn’t it? But…” She trails off uneasily, and he feels similarly. It’s so horribly shocking that hope doesn’t seem possible.

Apparently they aren’t the only ones. Ladybug and Chien Bringé crouch over Rena’s body, unconsolable, no matter how the others try to get their attention. Eventually, Ryoku seems to shout something that snaps Chien Bringé out of it, but Ladybug remains on her knees, trying to revive her teammate.

“Marinette,” Nathalie breathes. “She isn’t doing anything.”

“Come on, Marinette,” Gabriel growls under his breath. She lifts her yoyo, and drops it in defeat once before picking it up again. She throws it halfheartedly in the air for a Lucky Charm.

A rock falls into her hand. She stares at it, and the whole world waits.

It falls from her fingers, and she weeps.

“No!” Nathalie gasps. “She can’t do it.”

Gabriel chews the inside of his cheek, watching nervously. “No, but look. Roi Singe has an idea.”

The Monkey hero has called for his own power. Capitaine Décapitant swings at him, but he leaps up over the blade, throwing his banana full force at Ladybug’s Lucky Charm. Suddenly, bricks start falling out of the walls, and streamers burst from the ground, morbidly staining themselves red. Meanwhile, the ground itself shifts, forming great pits and canyons in the cobblestones.

Capitaine Décapitant swings wildly at the paper, shredding it. The heroes look at each other, then at the bricks.

“Roshambo!” Nathalie exclaims. “Rock, paper, scissors, well!”

The heroes have figured it out too. Each of them arm themselves with bricks, except for Ladybug, who remains at Rena Rouge’s side.

They begin to pelt the sentimonster with their new weapons. The bricks leave sizable dents in his blades, rendering them far less lethal than before.

Finally, Capitaine Décapitant is driven back against the edge of a large drop. As a unified group, the heroes each throw one last brick, toppling him over the edge.

It is at this moment that a portal opens up, and Viperion, Pegase, and Chat Noir jump through. They all freeze, shocked at the sight of Ladybug and Rena Rouge.

Chat quickly shakes his head and takes a tentative step forward. He makes his way to Ladybug’s side, laying a hand on her shoulder. She looks up at him before throwing her arms around his leg, burying her face into the outside of his thigh.

The other heroes gather around, forming a somber semicircle around them. Chien Bringé also drops to his knees, grabbing Rena Rouge’s hand.

Chat Noir gently pulls Ladybug off of him, leaning down to speak into her ear. He shows her a small object in his hand, a ribbon that looks awfully similar to the sentimonster’s cockades.

The ribbon is torn in two. A dark shape floats down. It’s hard to make out, but is most certainly the amok. Ladybug drops it into her yoyo with shaking fingers and purifies it.

Chien Bringé turns his head, saying something to her, and Chat Noir gives a solemn nod of encouragement. Ladybug then reaches for her Lucky Charm, staring down at it with great intensity.

She seems to be frozen. Chat Noir finally kneels down beside her and wraps his hand around hers, guiding it. Together, they throw the object into the air, starting the Ladybug cure.

The street realigns. Blood is wiped clean from the stones beneath. Paper vanishes, damage is undone, and the chaos of the battle disappears.

Still, Gabriel’s breath remains held until the girl beneath the Fox miraculous slowly sits up. Chien Bringé throws his arms around her, and while they embrace, her transformation washes over her, covering her in vibrant orange again.

The pixelation covering her is removed as her identity is protected once more, though Gabriel and Nathalie both know that it isn’t safe from the biggest person who would do harm. Still, the most important thing is that the girl is alive.

“And as you can see, folks, after a truly harrowing battle, Rena Rouge has been revived and returned to full health.” The stream of the heroes ends, returning to a video of Nadja Chamack in the studio. “Stay tuned as we call in the experts to analyze what went wrong and what Parisians can expect in these trying times. We’ll be bringing in —”

Gabriel mutes the television. He turns to Nathalie, who is still shaking, and cups both his hands around hers. “She’s alive,” he reassures her, fighting against the pit in his stomach.

“I know,” she whimpers. Her voice is suddenly weak and dry, barely squeaking out of her.

A lump forms in Gabriel’s throat. “Are you okay?”

Her nails dig into his palms, giving him some distraction from his internal turmoil. “No.”

He wishes he had the words to make it better. He wishes he could do anything at all.

Nathalie’s hand slips out of his grasp. He wraps her under his arm and pulls her in tight, glancing again at the television screen.

Clips from the battle are being cycled again. The dark red of the streets sears into his mind.

He buries his face into Nathalie’s shoulder and, for the first time since these attacks began, cries.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are confused by the "rock, paper, scissors, well": The French version of Rock-Paper-Scissors has an extra object — a well. Paper beats well, and well beats both rock and scissors!


End file.
